Renewal
by Cis100
Summary: Catherine Wayne is the fabulous, society queen of Gotham, on the cover of every magazine, patron to every charity and serial man eater. Except, she isn't any of that, in fact she's broken woman, whose double life as a vigilante is taking a toll on her. But with the return of her lost son, a series of events changes everything for her and her weird family. AU Genderbent Fem!Bru/Dick
1. Prologue

**Title:** **Renewal**

**Parings: Fem!Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson (eventual), Fem!Bruce Wayne/Male!Talia al Ghul (Past, Onesided), Tim Drake/Kon-El, Jason Todd/Stephanie ****Brown (eventual), Damian Wayne/Colin Wilkes (eventual). **

**Warnings:** **AU (and I mean serious AU) - several characters are genderbent, violence, cursing, lemon (down the line), age differences, same-sex relationships. Also, there could possibly be a slight OOC problem with some of you, simply for the fact that Bruce is a female in this story, please now if this will be a problem for you now.**

**Full Summary: Catherine Wayne is the fabulous, society queen of Gotham – on the cover of every magazine, patron to every charity, museum and cause that she could put her name to and serial man eater. Except, she isn't ant of that, only for show, and on the inside, she is a broken, barely-holding on woman, whose double life as a costume-wearing vigilante is taking a toll on her. But with the miraculous return of her lost son, it sets off a chain of events that will forever change her life, the future of Gotham and the future of this strange but close family. AU – Genderbent – FemaleBruce/Dick. **

**Notes: I also suppose that in several of the parings that this story will eventual have you could have a case of ****pseudo-incest, that is, if you're a purest in the Batman-Universe. For my purposes, it's not the case and if you're reading this, I expect this isn't a problem for you. Also, t****his is raw, unedited and presented as is, so any grammatical or spelling errors are solely mine. I've just had this damned plot bunny for months now and today it jumped right out of my skull and into word form. I'm screwing with canon to such a degree that I'm not going to even bother trying to place this is at a particular time or in any form of continuity. I hope you like it, and I hope that I can continue to write this, and eh... FYI, this is my first Batman fic, so please, be nice. **

* * *

**Prologue**

No matter what mask or costume I wore, I still found these parties overly tedious and overly taxing on my patience.

The chore of playing the role of the infamous man-eater Cathie Wayne was one that could not be avoided tonight. My special guests would expect nothing less and they would love nothing more than to play when I was under the guise of the pea brained socialite the entire world expected me to be. Short of Alfred and Commissioner Gordon, every single person in this room believed me to be the result of the unfortunate scenario that played out when one had no parents to give guidance, and having all of the money in the world on top of that. I was expected to the glamorous, yet shallow Queen of Gotham Society – invited to every party, patron to every charity, school and museum and serial man eater, sleeping with every eligible _and _non-eligible, rich man in the city. What escaped vision of these people was the fact that inside Boardroom and inside this manor, I was _none_ of those things and it provided me endless amusement that even after all this time, they hadn't noticed. No matter how much the people who worked for me, or the men I allegedly slept with, attested otherwise, these vapid imbeciles thought the worst of me and it was unlikely to change – if the only knew what I did when the sun went down.

In reality, the list of the men that I slept with was much shorter.

In reality, the places that I patronized were calculated and much more selective.

In reality, I possessed a genius level intellect – while all of the women in the room had single digit IQ scores and most of the men were still inferior to me.

The fact that I was, very likely, the smartest, most cunning and richest person in the room spoke volumes about the rich and privileged of this city.

Hiding a masterfully concealed sneer behind my champagne glass, I took a sip and turned my sight sharply to the door of the ballroom. Where Ra's and Aahil al Ghul went, trouble came quickly, or it wasn't far behind them and if I could ever change one mistake if my dealings with my alter-ego, it would be the positive associations that I had taken part in with them, because of that, they knew my name, my family, where I lived and how to get to me very quickly. They were one of the larger reasons that I kept Tim close and always kept an eye on Dick – in a lot of ways, they were more dangerous than even the most psychotic villain and unlike those villains – the al Ghul's knew exactly who they were. It wasn't that I feared _them_, I feared what they could do – and that's why I bent to their unspoken will whenever I interacted with them on this particular stage. This perilous détente was degrading at worst, tolerable at best, and maybe even perhaps enjoyable at it's _very _best.

The two men were perhaps one of my very few weaknesses – and they were the only ones who could get me to roll over and play dead at the prospect of them harming the people of Gotham, or one of my Robins.

I wished that they didn't have that power over me – but ever since Jason died, I couldn't stop that block, the feeling, that detached, aloofness that I had served me well in all other aspects of my life. I knew that at the very bottom of my soul, I would circle the wagons around Dick, Tim, Alfred and all of Gotham and let them have what they want if they ever threatened them and the shame of such a fact was something that I could barely suppress. For all I knew, they didn't know about that and maybe that's why they hadn't done it yet, because I refused to accept the fact that Aahil still loved me and ever since I turned down Ra's and his offer to become his servant, he did not bare the feelings that would cause him to care about me.

"Presenting Mister Raymond Head and Mister Henri Head," The Chief Usher announced to the ballroom and some of the people turned and caught a glimpse of the two powerful businessmen.

Turning to Alfred and offering him a wry look, I sat my champagne glass down on the table behind me, smoothed out the wrinkles in my gown and proceeded to cut through the crowd to meet them. To see Catherine Wayne and the al Ghul's in the same room was not uncommon to the people in this room, but if they knew what was really occurring and who, not to mention what, we really were to each other, they might have had another opinion. Maybe it was also change if they aware that Aahil was technically my ex-husband, and that he and my former "father in-law" were the leaders of a centuries old organization bent on taking over the world, and I frequently stopped their attempts. Some things were never meant to be known.

Glaring at some blond-headed trophy wife who stepped on the train of my black evening gown in passing, I turned my attention to the two men waiting by the door and quickened my stride, the heels of my pumps clicking against the marble floor.

Who would not be attracted to Aahil al Ghul? Gloriously tanned skin, spread out across large muscles and a full head of thick black hair? Charming hair? Disarming wit? The man could easily conquer the world if the people in this ballroom populated it. As they approached me to meet me half way, I could see the amusement written plainly on Aahil's face and the begrudging acceptance of even having to be here on his father's face. Plastering a small, fake smile on my face as I offered my hand to them, I cursed the fact that I had to do this in public and that I had to live a double life. The fact that I had to suffer the presence of these two men was testament to my never ending patience and my mastery of hiding in very, very plain sight.

"Beloved," Aahil whispered huskily at me as he kissed my hand, "It is always a pleasure to see you, you look beautiful as always."

Nodding indulgently at him, I gave him another fake smile, "Henri, I trust that you're well?"

"Well enough," He replied and then turned to Ra's off to the side, watching us, like he always had, "I believe you remember my father?"

Offering my hand to Ra's – I made a silent note to dunk my hand in bleach when the party was over, and maybe I would amputate it all together, because when Ra's kissed it, I knew I would always hate the appendage, "Ms. Wayne."

"Raymond, Henri," I pulled my hand back, maybe a little too quickly – but it did not matter now, "I was distressed to learn that we did not accommodate your meals – if I had received _more of a warning_ that you were coming…"

In other words, I was simply asking them what the hell they were doing here and what they wanted – and they knew it too.

I had not seen or heard anything that had to do with Ra's for quite some time, and for that I was immensely thankful – but as far as Aahil went, it still pained me to even look at him. Aahil was the only man that I had ever, for lack of a better term, loved in my entire life. I was foolish, I was young, I was idealistic and for a long time, I truly felt that I wanted to have a family with him, and spend the rest of my life with him – but it wasn't meant to be, for two reasons in particular. The first of which was the first time I ever saw Aahil execute someone, and if that was bad enough – during the first, and so far the only, time that I had ever become pregnant, by him, I lost the baby when he attacked me and I never, ever forgave him for it.

I had to admit that while he had taken quite a lot from me, namely my sense of trust in men – and perhaps a little innocence, he also gave me quite a bit.

It was because of him that I had learned, in order to protect myself, to compartmentalize everything, build walls and only let those walls down to certain people and sparingly at that.

And, I never told any of the boys, or girls this, it because of his idiocy around me when I was pregnant – that I was so open to bringing first Dick, then Jason, then Tim and then all of the girls into my life.

Sure, I did it for other reasons too, with the exception of Barbara, but I suppose that was the underlying reason.

So, I really do suppose I owed him a great debt.

But as if I'd ever tell him that.

"Imagine my surprise when Father and I were in Moscow last month, and we happen to see something on the street," Aahil began airily and I raised a single eyebrow, I was not in the mood for stories, "Would you like to know what it was darling?"

He had no right to call me that, or beloved, after what he did to me! It was all I could do just to restrain the urge to strangle him.

"No," I told him and my voice brokered no argument.

Aahil had the look on his face – the smirk, that smirk that he always had when he knew he was about to one up me and win, "We found a lost bird, a _Robin_ really – very odd time a year for a Robin to appear there."

My eyes sharped deadly and I had to admit that entertained the idea of killing them both and hiding the bodies from the League, just so I had the satisfaction of knowing that neither of them could bother me again. It had only been a eleven months to be precise, but unlike Tim, and even Dick, I considered Jason my son, and I was convinced that even seeing my parents killed could not even compare to having to drag my son's body out of rubble. The first three months saw me because a complete and total wreck, and when I wasn't brooding in a dark room, or out taking my frustrations and my anger out on the poor, unsuspecting muggers and criminals who got in my way, I was hunting the Joker. The Joker, whom I knew had killed Jason, the Joker, who, to this day, deserved to be killed for what he did to Jason Todd. I turned over every stone on the planet to find him and when I finally did get a fix on his general location, here in Gotham none the less, I ran the son of a bitch down. I had become, by that point, unhinged with my anger and I came to within an inch of killing him, brutally, I wanted to make him suffer, not his victims, not at all, but something far worse entirely, I wanted to break him and then finally kill him.

These villains, psychopaths and general bad people could screw with me all the liked – I was used to it and I could take all of them.

But when they came after the boys or girls – I would tear them apart.

It took Superman himself to pull me off of the Joker and make sure I didn't kill him.

But by that point, I was so tired that I didn't even resist him.

I knew that next time, and there would probably be another attempt to kill one of the Robins, or Batgirl, it would take the entire Justice League to pull me off of whoever was bold enough to try.

Growling warningly at him, I stepped forward and put my hands on my hips, "Watch your language – or I'll cut your tongue out."

It wasn't the thing Batwoman would say to a criminal, or even someone she just general didn't like.

It was, however, something Catherine Wayne would say to Aahil al Ghul for opening up just now closed wounds.

Aahil smirked at me, "But beloved, I think you'll want to see this."

"What is it?" These two had the power of quasi-immortality and the ability to bring the dea-…

My jaw dropped as it dawned at me and when I looked up at Aahil, and the affirming twinkle in his eye, I felt rage twist my stomach, "You didn't! You bastard! You _BASTARD_!"

I didn't care if half of the ballroom could hear me, Aahil al Ghul and his accursed father were basically telling me that my dead child was alive and if they disturbed Jason's grave, they would pay – I would make sure of that.

"We didn't do it beloved, he was alive when we found him, we simply healed him, sunk him in the pit-…"

I faded out his explanation and as I thought about Jason for the umpteenth time in the past eleven months, I repressed the urge to cry. He and I had gotten to a place that not even Dick had gone in our relationship and that was the fact that he, in the last few months of his life, had taken to calling me 'Mom' and the fact that I'd never hear that from him again, only twisted the knife in the wound. I had tried to be a mentor to Jason, but when he died, I found that the biggest thing that I regretted was not being the mother that he so obviously wanted from me. I would bargain with him God himself to bring Jason back to me, just so I could show him how much I loved him and how much I'd love to be his mother first and mentor second.

But this… this miracle, if they were telling the truth, didn't come from God, it came from the other direction.

And it because of that, assuming that it was true, that I didn't even trust them then.

"What did you do to him," I hissed at him and turned to his father, "If you brainwashed him, conditioned him, or turned him into something that I can't fix – I'll kill you."

Snapping my face back to Aahil, I stepped closer and narrowed my eyes, "Not only that, I'll take my time and enjoy it too!"

"What delightful speech you make when you're angry beloved," Henri praised.

I narrowed my eyes, "Don't mock me! It was because of you and your damned father that Jason was killed anyway!"

And from the look of shook on their faces, I knew that they weren't expecting that little detail to come into play and it made me snort in unrestrained anger. I might not have had the reach of Ra's al Ghul, but there was very little that happened in the world that I did now about, and after fourteen hours of beating the hell out of the Joker, he had let it slip as to who paid him to kill Jason. Perhaps he wanted me to turn my fury on them, doubtful, but still a possibility. Perhaps the Joker knew that these two men were the only two people, or villains, if you preferred, on the entire planet who were my equals. They were the only people who could match me in a game that involved mystery, intrigue, psychology, and money, the only ones.

Aahil's eyes softened ever so slightly around the edges, as subtle reminder to me that somewhere under his father's teachings, he had a heart and he was trying to show me, "I-…"

"You've taken a lot from me _dearest_," I spat back my former endearment to him, "You took my first child, and your father took another – so where is Jason? If he's alive, like you're obviously implying, I want to know where you've put him…"

I let the rest of the sentence hang off and we all got why, I didn't need to elaborate on the consequences if they were hiding Jason from me.

I had twenty two billion dollars, connections that rivaled even Ra's and I had the Justice League, I would tear the planet apart to find Jason if he was alive and if by some change he wasn't, I would not be so forgiving towards the al Ghul's and their little joke on me. Turning back to his father as if to consult with him silently, I turned my head back to Alfred, who was watching the scene from my previous post by the table, and gave him the smallest of nods. That nod meant several things – it meant that Alfred was to have alerted Superman and the members of the League who could be spared to be on alert for any signs of trouble near, or around the Manor, it was also intended for Alfred to alert both Tim and Dick to remain on guard.

Looking back at them, I raised an eyebrow again, "Beloved, he is here, we brought him with us – but before you rush to him, you must know something…"

"…he knows about Timothy Drake," Ra's finished for him and I felt my heart stop for a moment.

'_Oh no…'_

* * *

It wasn't that I loved Tim, and it was not that I was ashamed of him.

The boy was unrelentingly smart, brave, strong and all of the qualities that both Dick and Jason showed when they wore the mantle of Robin.

However I knew Jason, I knew where the insecurities in him were and I knew exactly what would happen if he managed to see photographs of myself and Tim in the guise of Batwoman and Robin. He would feel abandoned, betrayed and replaced and it would be directed right at me – and when he was done with me, he'd turn his sights on Tim and that was something that I couldn't allow to happen. Even as I rushed up the stairs, with both of the al Ghul's following me, which was a surreal thought in itself, I was frantically coming up with something, anything to say to him, to make him understand. However, even as I neared my study, the room that Ra's and Aahil had deposited Jason in, I knew that this wouldn't be settled smoothly.

"It was because of my actions that Jason died," Ra's explained in his typical sage like voice, "It was not meant to happen and for that, I felt I should return him to you."

"And my reasoning is obvious," Aahil tacked on and I felt the obligatory stomach twist at even the hint of_ that_.

I stopped suddenly and turned around to both of them, "I must do this alone."

"You don't understand – he'll be-…" I cut Aahil off.

"He'll be aggressive and hateful towards me, yes, I know," I waved my hand dismissively – it was by no means something to dismiss, but I wasn't completely ignorant of what his reaction to me would be. "I'm prepared for that."

And without another word to them, I turned my heels and proceeded down the hallway, and that, in itself, was a non-verbal command for both of them to leave the property, leave Gotham and not return. I wasn't under false ideal of what they knew and didn't know, I was fairly confident that they knew that a lot of the Justice League was in town for their arrival. But we both knew that I would allow them to leave without a problem, if they left quietly, in gratitude for bringing Jason back to me.

I hoped that they didn't abuse it.


	2. Chapter One

**Authors Note: Before it's brought up - yes, Catherine (aka Bruce) is slightly out of character in this chapter - but I'm proceeding under the assumption that she's not going to be so frigid as Bruce is in normal world. Don't worry, she's not a ball of sunshine or a chatter box and so _way_ out of character that she's more of an OFC, then Bruce in female form - but for my purposes, she's a little bit more expressive. And hell, she's a woman in this story, things aren't normal. Once again, this has been un-BETA'ed - but subject to my own little half-assed grammar check, so excuse the mistakes that you might find and be nice about them. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter One **

My relationship with Jason was different than with Dick and Tim – it was much different.

Dick was my partner, completely and utterly – I'd guided out of the most traumatic event of his life, and raised him to be a fine man. However, as Dick would say, he had a mother, he had his parents and while I did finish their job, I wasn't really a parent to him as much as I was a mentor, a teacher. Our bond was similar to that of a parent to a child, but it wasn't that – and even now, I wouldn't call Dick my son and he wouldn't call me his mother, I was his guardian and he was my ward. The relationship that we had cultivated throughout the early years had waned, and was put to the test in his final year as Robin – when he was seventeen, growing not only into his self and his independence, but into his body as well. The only reason that I had even begun to consider firing Dick was the fact that I found myself growing more and more attracted to him as each day passed. It was wrong, it shouldn't have happened – and more and more, I searched hard to try and find the excuse to remove him, to keep him at arm's length and prevent an attraction, that shouldn't happen, from growing any larger. Then he was shot by the Joker and I finally had my good reason. I fired him, we had a falling out and we didn't speak for a year.

That was until I decided to train Jason to be Robin and even then, our relationship didn't improve all that much.

I was stubborn, not wanting to change a thing, and I was scared, keeping Dick as far away from me as possible.

When he came back into the fold as Nightwing, he was antagonistic to Jason, obviously, and I should have protected Jason from it and I should have let Dick know why I had been hostile towards him.

Tim was more in line with Jason and I considered the boy my son, even if he didn't right now – I'd do anything for him, much like I would for Jason and Dick. If the boy wanted me to adopt him, I would and if he wanted to start calling me Mom, I'd let him. I was determined, in regards to Tim at least, to not make the same mistakes that I made with Jason and give him a mother, as well as a mentor. I'd support him, meet his girlfriends, babysit his children, co-sign on a house, anything really.

If I could, I'd do that for Jason now, because as I padded silently into the room and saw him sitting in the too-large arm chair, brooding by the fire, I knew that Jason was on a perilous course. If I didn't pull him back over the cliff, he would be foist on a path in life that I never wanted for him – he didn't have to return to fighting crime if he didn't want to, but I didn't want him to end up like the rest of his family, or to go back out on the streets. I wanted him to take advantage of what I had to offer and get more out of life, if he wanted to go to college, I'd pay for it, and if he wanted to rejoin the fight, I'd help him every step out of the way. Anything to keep him from falling back into the life he had before I found him, anything to get that damned look off of his face – no child of mine, biological or not, would ever look like that. Barbara Gordon would call that overbearing, but at the end of the day, and maybe years from now even, I hoped they understood my motivations for doing it.

Placing my hands on the back of the opposite armchair, my eyes softened at the slight pout that the seventeen, going on eighteen, year old boy had and I struggled to find words, "Jason…I-… I don't know what to say…"

"Good to see you too Mom," He looked back up to me and I was struck by his teal eyes, a pair of remarkably distinctive eyes that I genuinely believed I would never see again, "Why aren't you freakin' out? I'd be, hell, I did."

Scowling faintly at his language and pushing back the urge to chastise him for it, I sighed and walked around to the front of the chair and gingerly sat down, crossing my legs and smoothing my dress down. He looked great, he didn't look like he had been dead at all, but I knew better, I had observed the effects of the Lazarus Pit on certain individuals before and I knew that there had to be something wrong with him. I wasn't going to lie, I contemplated asking the al Ghul's for the favor – but I had assumed that because of the injuries that Jason had sustained to his skull from the damned crowbar, he'd be mentally unstable when he was revived. That instantly brought up the biggest question in my mind, was he unstable? Did he have nightmares of his death, resurrection and subsequent return to the world of the living? Had the pit revealed something about Jason that he had kept hidden from me? I dreaded the answer and I swore to myself right then and there that I'd fix him, no matter the costs.

"I had my reaction on my way up here," I replied quietly, not being able to take my eyes off of his face, though I could only see his profile, as he had only looked at me once, "I-I thought that they were lying to me, I was sure…"

"That I was dead!" He hissed back at me and I recoiled slightly, this was not the place to fall into the persona of Batwoman, he needed a target if he was ever going to get better, "You never even noticed, a year! An entire year and you didn't see!"

"Your coffin had proximity detectors to alert me if someone opened it from the outside, _not_ the inside," I wasn't going to fight him on this particular subject, yes, it was terribly shortsighted of me, but how could I have possibly known about it? I couldn't have, "Now as far as me not noticing, you're right – I had no reason at all to suspect that you were alive, I was just at your grave last week to replace the flowers and there was no indication, none at all, that you weren't there – so please try to forgive me for that at least."

He sneered and turned defiantly at me and I knew what that look signified – he had lost on the first two points, but he knew he had me beat on the new one, "I've been replaced."

"I-…" My defense died on my lips and I found that I was speechless.

When Jason snorted and turned back to the fire, I tried to find some way to justify it – I tried someway to cobble something together that would pacify him and not make him outright hate Tim, but I knew that it was of no use at all. There was not a single thing that I could say to lessen his anger at myself, or Tim on that part. When I chose him to become the second Robin and replace Dick – he'd made it quite clear that it was the best day of his entire life and that being Robin was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Feeling a pang of sadness welling up within me, I looked at Jason and tried to hold back the tears as I finally understood and absorbed the implications of his replacement. He grew up with nothing, on the streets, doing whatever he could do to survive out there – and then one night, the brave little punk had the balls to try and steal the tires off of a car, and not just anyone's car, but Batwoman's car. From that moment on, his life changed for the better. Suddenly he no longer had to worry about food, warmth, shelter and his health – the life he had come into was a life where he could want for literally nothing, I made sure of that, and perhaps he felt that he had finally found his happiness.

But then he died, and I'd failed to protect him and he died because of my failure.

And when he managed to come back to life, he found that the life he had found himself enjoying was taken away, by none other than that obsessive-compulsive neighbor boy.

"And Mom, I could forgive and do forgive all of that – every single bit of it," He turned to me and my heart broke to see his lower lip trembling, I didn't think he even realized that he was doing it, "But why is the Joker still alive? After what he did?"

"Was I worth it?" He seethed at me, his voice seeming to drop in octave as he growled, "God forbid what would have happened to him if it had been Dick and not me – you would have butchered him – but not for me right? You let him live."

Everything he was saying was both right and wrong at the same time – what he was saying about Dick was true, but he what he was saying about himself was so wrong.

So, that, above all of the disastrous mistakes that had come in the wake of his death, this would be the biggest demon to tackle – I knew my answer and it was not going to be one that Jason could stomach. We had always had our disagreements on this particular subject, but they never really damaged our relationship. I'd always believed that the root of his disagreements came from, where he came from, the poor neighborhoods of Gotham. Where if you went to the police, you were a snitch and if you turned someone in, you signed your death warrant. He grew up in a place where violence, and perhaps even murder, was warranted and expected and it just wasn't possible to remove that belief or change it completely in the time we had. There was nothing I could do at this point, but be honest, perhaps honesty and the truth of my awful confrontation with the Joker would placate him, or at least make him understand that I almost did it, that I was bent on making his murder suffer.

"About three months after your death," I let out a shuddering sigh as I let myself drift back into the memory, "I had developed a fixation on finding the Joker, because – I was so destroyed by your death that I wanted to take it out on someone, all of the rage, anger, sadness, guilt, all of it. He'd gone into hiding after he murder you – and when I finally tracked him back here to Gotham, I drugged him. I tied him to a chair, locked him in a closet out in those depilated apartment buildings outside of the Port District. When he woke up, I proceeded to beat him, I beat him for hours, all day – I-…I had brought a crow bar with me, I beat him with that for a good half hour – and then I pointed a gun at him and I swear to you, I would killed him. In that moment, I could see nothing but putting a bullet in his head – nothing at all…"

It took a lot for me to admit this – because it was perhaps the one and only time that I was going to murder someone.

By this point, when I looked back to Jason, he was looking at me with a guarded expression, something that brought a guarded, and cautious hope to me, "…I would have done it too – I was prepared to get rid of the body, hide all evidence that I had done it, but Dick managed to alert Clark, and Clark, knowing exactly what I was doing, came to Gotham, found us and stopped me. The only reason that I didn't do it was because Superman himself pulled me back, I was going to avenge you."

'_But he's right, if the Joker had killed Dick, you would have shoved the Kryptonite down Clark's throat with one hand and blew the Joker's brains out with the other,_' My traitorous inner voice replied and squashed it down, even as it sneered at me in disgust. '_Hypocrite_'

I refused to believe in Jason's insecurity issues when it came to Dick. In the earlier months of our relationship, I would admit that I did nothing to quell it – always comparing him to Dick. However, that did not mean that I would act any differently in that awful scenario then I did when Jason died. I loved Dick in other ways, ways that I did not love Jason, but that did not mean that I loved Jason less. I loved Jason like a son and I would go to any lengths, raise heaven and earth to protect him.

When his expression began to melt, I took the opportunity to stand up from my chair, and walk over to his, sit on the arm and lock eyes with him, "I grieved and missed you every single day, and don't blame Clark or Dick for them stopping me. I'm telling you now, if I had done that, there would have been nothing stopping me from going out and killing everyone who had the nerve to hurt something I loved and that was important to me. Even after, I was still so swallowed up by it all and then Tim came along. I want this on the record now, I didn't want another Robin, I wouldn't risk going through what happened to you again – but he's a clever boy, and persistent and I decided that if I was ever going to move on – I needed to have another Robin with me."

Leaning closer, I got into his face to convey my point, "But I never stopped loving you, or missing you – you weren't replaced or forgotten. Hell, Tim worships you, not Dick – _you_."

And that was all I had to say on the matter – that was fact, that was how I felt and I wouldn't deviate from that. If Jason couldn't accept that, then we'd either have to work through that in our relationship and get past it, or the next couple of weeks would be rough. In all of my life, other than myself, I don't think that I'd ever met someone who could hold a grudge like Jason Todd could and considering what had happened, it was a fairly big thing to ask him to just move past it. What else could I do though? I could smoother him with all of the love and comfort in the world, but it didn't matter if he was unreceptive to it. However, when I looked over into his eyes, I saw something in them that told me exactly one thing, I was not forgiven, not by a longshot, but we could work on it, he was willing to. It was the only opening that I needed. I wouldn't smother him with the constant need to win his forgiveness, even though that was my natural reaction, but I'd make him see the truth.

As I stood up from the arm of the chair, turned and walked around to face him, I sunk to my haunches and grasped his chin, pulling his face up to look at me, "I'm so happy to see you."

Reaching forward and pulling the boy into a hug, I smiled slightly as I felt him begin to silently sob against my neck.

"Welcome home son," I whispered in his ear as I rubbed comforting circles on his back.

This was his home – Jason had to see that.

* * *

Pressing the button under my bedside table, I looked up to the wall directly beside the door to the bathroom and watched it slide back and reveal the bank of monitors for all of the cameras in the house. The top row of five was devoted to the front of the manor, all of the entrances and exits, including windows, the doors to Dick, Tim and Jason's bedrooms, as well as Alfred's – and there was a feed covering the entrance to the cave. The second row was the feed to the security cameras that were placed throughout the grounds, at all potential entrances and exits, including the exits from the Batcave at the back of the grounds. The third and final bank was the reason that I was even looking at these seldom used monitors and the sight of Jason laying in his bed, sound asleep made me relax. I'd been so convinced that Jason was going to run – but none of the cameras, or any of the alarms had been tripped and I was fairly confident that he was still in there, even without seeing it with my own eyes. Even so, I'd been so concerned about it that I'd stayed up for hours after the party sitting out front in a chair, looking at the window to Jason's bedroom – waiting for the moment that he'd try to run away from the manor and me.

It never came, and as I looked back at the clock over the door to my bedroom – I grimaced at the results of my paranoia, it was two thirty in the morning. I stayed up this late every night, but on nights when I didn't go on patrol, I liked to at least attempt to catch up on my sleep. Looking back at the full panoramic window of my bedroom and repressing an urge to go suit up at the sight of the glittering city, I sighed, tied my robe tighter around my waist and reached down to reach inside my bedside table drawer and withdrew a communicator. I was tired, too tired to go down to the cave and contact the Titans directly. Waking Barbara up now and having her patch me through to Tim and Dick directly was the most attractive option.

Inserting the earpiece, I sighed, pressed it and waited to be flogged for waking Oracle up, and I couldn't help but smile as Barbara Gordon's disgruntled, tired voice came through, "Boss, I thought you were taking the night off, I know I was."

With Dick and Tim running point with the Titan's in New York this weekend, and Clark so chivalrously deciding that he'd handle patrol tonight, even after I offered to take it over after the party, I'd informed her that I was taking a rare night to myself.

"Well, I just need a couple of favors and then you can go right back to bed," I tried to soothe her.

She sighed dramatically, but I knew I'd won, "What is it that you need?"

"I want you to get into the security systems around the manor and in the cave," I told her, putting my free hand on my hip, "If someone attempts to get into the cave tonight, or off the grounds, I want all the alarms set off – automatically."

"Trying to keep Alfred from breaking curfew?" Barbara replied with rhetorical wryness as she obeyed my order, "Done – if anything tries to get in the cave, as well as the grounds – it'll set off all alarms and security procedures will be activated."

Good, I thought, with a glance back at the sleeping form of Jason on the monitor – I'd updated the security measures around the manor and in the cave since Jason died, about three times actually. If he tried to leave in the middle of the night, he might get through most of them, I trained him to do that, but he was probably a little rusty, and it was a matter of practicality, as well as statistics that he'd never get through all of them. Turning my focus back to Barbara, I turned on my bare heels back towards the city and tried to find the next thing to say. Perhaps it would be best to return to routine and save the surprise for later, "Good – as to my second favor, any word from the Titans – or more specifically from Nightwing and Robin?"

"Dick called me about a half hour ago, he told me that the mission was a success," I smiled, very pleased, "And after asking him why he decided to wake me up – he told me that Robin and the Titans were going on patrol and he was taking a nap."

I scowled slightly, how un-Dick-like – ever since he was a boy, he couldn't imagine doing anything else and I'd always trained him that work came first, maybe I wasn't the only one cutting lose tonight. I hated to wake him up, even Barbara, but I had to make sure that he and Tim would come back tomorrow, regardless if it were in the morning, afternoon or night. Jason had to be interacting with them again and as soon as possible, "Can you patch me through and make sure he wakes up?"

There was a sound of malicious satisfaction in her voice as she obeyed the order without question.

And to think, at one time Dick wanted to date this girl.

Rolling my eyes as the patch went through – I realized that I probably wouldn't be any better for him.

* * *

Rubbing my eyes and inserting the communicator into my ear and quickly pressing it, I settled down as the loud, obnoxious noise that awoke me stopped, and with a yawn, I propped myself up on my arm, "Is this payback for waking you up?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Dick, you didn't wake me up, I woke you up," Catherine's wry voice came through to my ear and in my sleep-deprived, just-woken up, defenseless state – I let the goofy grin come to my face.

If I were to describe my feelings towards Catherine, most people would be blow out of the water to find that they were not the ones that sons felt towards their mothers. In the aftermath of my parent's death, and in probably the first two years of our relationship, I'd considered her a mother – but when I hit puberty and hormones became my best friend, all of that changed. People would probably be surprised to find that she was the first girl that I ever had a crush on and she was the first girl that I genuinely fell in love with. It wasn't that weird to me, I was an eleven year old boy and I got to be around the most amazing person ever. I still loved her, and yes – like that, and no, it was due to any issues that I had with the maternal figures in my life. If anything, she was just old enough to be my big sister – I was nine when she brought me into her home and she was twenty five. Now, eleven years later – I was a twenty year old man, pining after my thirty six year old, former guardian. That didn't make me weird, she had that effect on the people she let into her life, sure, she also had the ability to make people want to hit her and then hug her, but that was a part of her charm, the part of her that made her Catherine.

So, I'd say my goofy smile was justified, "What can I do for you at this time a night boss?"

"I'm sorry to cut your trip short," She didn't sound all that sorry, I realized with a silent snort, "But I need you and Tim back here in Gotham tomorrow, as soon as possible – I'm sending the plane in the morning."

"But Catherine, it's a three hour drive," I replied, utterly confused by this point.

"But you'd be here in a half hour if you took the plane," Her tone brokered no room for argument and I sighed inwardly, it wasn't a bad thing, it just seemed so unnecessary, what could be so important? I didn't like not knowing.

"And what, pray tell, is so important that you want us back there so quickly?" I asked her, rolling over and laying my head down on the pillow.

"I'll explain when you get here, just please do it," She sighed and I felt my eyes narrow in concern, something was definitely up, "And no before you ask, it's nothing life threatening, or anything to do with any trouble, it's just so… I-I just _need_ you."

And that _shouldn't _have sounded so satisfying as it did, but then I remembered that she couldn't see my face, and that let loose the small smirk, "Tim and I will get to the airport in the morning."

"Good," She sounded pleased and I knew that she had just nodded her head, "Alfred will be waiting at the private hanger – you'll pick up Barbara, because I want her here too and then you all will come here for my big surprise."

Narrowing my eyes, I was genuinely curious at this point, because there were not many things to make Batwoman herself become this emotional, literally plead with me to come home and break her cardinal rule of not using names in the field or on the communicator and there was nothing, absolutely nothing pointing to what the reason was. It was because of this that I almost shot up and started packing now, whatever was bothering her was something she shouldn't handle alone.

Deciding to sit up straight, I pressed the communicator again, "Seriously this time, what's bothering you so much that you'd act like this?"

Then I grew really concerned when I heard a distinctly shuddered sigh over the line, "I-It's something you need to see for yourself Dick, because if I tell you now, you won't believe me. Just come home, bring Tim and Barbara and see for yourself."


	3. Chapter Two

**Note: Again, edited to a degree, but any grammatical mistakes, missing words or misspelled words are my own fault. It's three in the morning, give me a break. **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter Two **

Wrapping my robe tightly around my waist as descended down the stairs – I was in a bit of a mood to say the least.

Three muggings, that was all Clark had to deal with – he had patrolled the entire city until about five thirty in the morning and all he had to do was stop three blasted street muggings. Rolling my eyes as I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned left into the kitchen to fetch my coffee, I wanted to strangle the boy scout, he always seemed to have the easiest things to deal with, whereas I had to deal with, on any given night, bank robberies and attempt murder. Blindly, turning right at the door and heading to the coffee maker, I wondered idly where Alfred was, normally he was in to open my drapes and wake me up – but this morning he wasn't there. Yawning loudly, I opened the cabinet in front of me and with a triumphant little smile, I grabbed the coffee can. When I finally had my hands around the can, it was at that exact moment that I heard the smallest and slightest sound of cutting in the air – and after that sense in my stomach started tingling, I quickly ducked down, as a large_ butchers_ knife flew past my head and _embedded_ itself right in the cabinet door next to mine. Upon hearing that very familiar chuckle behind me, I stood back up, took a deep breath, set the coffee can down on the kitchen counter and prayed for the patience to deal with Jason now. Granted he didn't always throw very large knives at me before he was murdered, this was classically Jason, causing mischief, trying to test the limits on how far I would go with him in discipline.

This was his first morning back in the manor, so I wasn't going to play the game with Jason in this respect, at least not right now, but I would let him know that there would be consequences.

Turning back around, leaning back against the counter and folding my arms over my chest, I returned his shit-eating grin with one of my own, "Did Ra's or Aahil teach you that? Throwing a knife, particularly at me, just _screams _al Ghul."

"Aahil," Jason answered as he took a sip of juice, sitting seemingly calmly on a barstool in the island, and when he set his cup down and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, his grin was returned. "I didn't want my skills to dull – and well-…"

"He thought it would be funny to teach you something that he took a lot of pleasure in teaching me?" I raised an eyebrow, amused by my son's sheepishness.

Jason nodded and I let out a little laugh, before turning to pull the knife out of the cabinet and putting it gently in the sink, "And why did you want to take my head off?"

"I just wanted to know if you hadn't gone all soft, just working with Dickie and the replacement," He beamed at me and I smiled reluctantly in return – sure, I shouldn't be encouraging knife throwing, but I wanted him to open up to me again and it would be some time before I could reassume that level of discipline that doing what he just did entailed. "And the good news is that you haven't, and well maybe, maybe I just wanted to let you that I'm ready to get back out there with you again."

I fixed him with a cautious look, "You understand that Tim is Robin now, and I don't think the boy will react too well if I give it back to you."

"He replaced me, but now I'm back," He insisted, his voice rising slightly, but thankfully the rage that I witnessed in his eyes last night had not returned, "And now, I want my old job back."

"You weren't replaced," I swallowed thickly and pretend not to see his concerned look at my display of emotion, "I didn't bring Tim in with the purpose of recreating you, because to be honest Jason, you are one in a million."

Things were going well, too well really, because of all of the things that I expected to come onto his face after I made that statement, a smile wasn't one of that, "Well thank you Mom, b-but, if this Tim kid is still Robin, then what am I?"

"That's the million dollar question is it? I'd be more than willing to help you develop costume and a persona of your own," I told him, as I reached back for the coffee can and then pulled the coffee maker towards me, "And there's plenty of room on the team for you, Dick had to go back up to Blüdhaven soon and Tim will still need someone to teach and him and watch over him while I'm not in the position to do so. I don't know, Barbara was Batgirl, would you like to be Batman or something?"

Idly scooping coffee grains out of the can and putting them into the coffee maker, I looked back up to Jason and watched as he stared at the table in obvious contemplation. Seventeen the boy may be, nevertheless, I could envision something of a male equivalent to Barbara or Cassandra, or even to my own persona, but the problem was in the image itself. If he went out there, no matter if he was strong, big or tall, he'd be injured, sooner or later due to his inexperience. In a few more years, perhaps even ten or fifteen, when he had more experience under his belt, I could allow there to be a male equivalent to Batwoman. It was for his own safety, I told myself and as I looked back up to his still contemplating face, I begged whatever god was listening to make him reject the idea of that offhand. Whatever it was, it needed to be something of his own choice, something the reflected his skills, as well his age and something that was going to get himself killed on the first patrol.

"No offence, but I don't want to be Batman," Jason looked back to me with a slight grin, "That implies that I'm your equivalent – and good as I am, I'm not as good as you."

"How about Batboy?" I sent a teasing wink his way.

"Otherwise known as Robin," Jason finished me and I sighed – trying to find something alternative.

"Look," Jason interrupted as he stood up off of the barstool and made his way over to me, next to the sink, with glass in hand. It gave me an opportunity to see him up close, in the light, in years and gone was the boy who tried so valiantly to steal the tires off of my car, and in his place was a man coming into his own. That thought filled me with dread, Jason should have spent these years here, with me and Alfred, to make sure that when he finally decided to leave the nest, he'd be an, at least somewhat, well-adjusted member of society at large, "How about, I take my time finding something new – and in the meantime, I stay here in the Manor when you, the replacement and whoever the hell the new Batgirl is, go out on patrol?"

Blinking as he set the glass down in the sink and looked at me in response, "Are you going to, what? Be our coordinator from the cave on Barbara's days off?"

"No," He snickered and shook his head, "You still have the training equipment in the cave don't you?"

I nodded and then he fixed me with a bright smile, "It's gonna take me a few months to get back into full swing of things and now, in foresight, I suppose that jumping right back into action would have been stupid."

Okay then.

If I wasn't so shocked by the fact that Jason had actually thought something through to the end, I would have laughed. Mentally adding that onto the note of strange symptoms from Jason, I would have to look for that as well in my silent evaluation of him, because frankly, I couldn't come out and ask him if he was different. No, above all of the other members of the family, over his friends, over the League, over everyone, I had to be the one who expressed absolutely no doubts about him and the question of whether or not it really was him. He could take them from Barbara, Tim, Dick, Roy, the League, hell, perhaps even Alfred, but if I began to doubt him too – I wasn't quite sure what would happen, but I know it would be very bad.

"That sounds like a reasonable plan," I nodded in approval and then I let a slight smile come to face, "And sweetheart, you do realize that _"the Replacement"_ has a name?"

"Yeah, replacement," He answered me with his almost trademarked smart-assed grin and I rolled my eyes in response.

"No, you funny child," I deadpanned and he smirked, "Timothy Jackson Drake, you remember the Drakes that used to live next door?"

Jason's brow creased in pondering, "…you mean that small kid that used to hold onto the wife's leg?"

I nodded – I _suspected_ that Jason knew what I was doing, and I hope he did know too. I wanted to humanize Tim to him – because when Tim got here, he was going to bubbly, excited and just all around… _Tim _when they saw each other, "That's the one, their son, Jack was killed about ten months ago, and Janet died long before that and the only family he had left was a cousin in Arizona, I think. He was not the nicest man and certainly not the kind of person to be having a child around. He died of sirous of the liver about six months ago, so I was given permanent custody of Tim – because courts would rather give their orphaned kids to rich, dopey, female billionaires, instead of distant, alcoholic cousins on the other side of the country."

Jason tapped his fingers against the black onyx countertop and leaned against it, "Really Mom, do you expect me to feel sorry for him?"

"Do you want to know what his first memory is?" I asked, matching Jason's posture.

He raised an eyebrow, "A silver spoon?"

I smiled mirthlessly and shook my head, "No – it just so happens that the night Dick's parents died, Tim was there at the circus with his parents…"

Jason's mouth continued to drop as I wordlessly implied that his first memory was of seeing people killed – and it was a very true implication.

"You're kidding right?" He asked, not willing to believe such a horrifying thought.

I shook my head, "No, and after it happened, Jack and Janet stuck Tim in their house with nannies and maids and didn't even bother to help him through it."

He seemed genuinely disturbed by it and thought it was a horrifying thought, I was pleased, it meant that he would at least not be so hard on Tim, "…that's fucked up."

"Language," I chastised him gently and then I nodded myself, "Though, those are completely accurate words."

"Damn," He leaned back against the counter and ran his hands through his hair, his hands staying a second longer on the shock of white hair in his altogether dark head, a curious impulse, "I'm gonna' have to be nice to him, aren't I?"

I shrugged, "I hoped that you would, but at the very least, I'm asking you not to be mean to him – he really is a sweet kid. The entire world would kill for his life, at least from the outside perspective, but he really did have a hard life in his own way."

"I-I'll be _friendly _to him," He replied quietly, and after a moment, a small smile began to appear on his lips, "You said he, what was it? Worships me?"

I let out a little laugh and nodded as I saw the coffee begin to trickle into the pot, "Yes – I mean, don't get me wrong, he looks up to Dick, but you – he's wanted to be Robin because of you, he told me that you saved his life once."

His brow raise yet again, "I did?"

"Yeah," I smirked slightly at the memory of my own shock of this conversation with Tim, "Apparently he's quite the little stalker – he managed, for a good couple of months to tail the two of us with a camera, when we were on Patrol, and one night he nearly fell down a fire escape. You got him safely to the ground and didn't think anything of it, as it turns out, he has quite the little photo album of the two us – and when you saved his life, I think you forever endeared yourself to him, ironic."

He nodded and I recognized the signs of a Jason Todd who was impressed, "That's a feat to follow us around and not notice that he was taking our picture."

"Yes, that's part of the reason why I gave him the uniform, the kid has a genius level intellect, comparable to my own when he's older, and he has the uncanny ability to blend in to the background," I mused as I finally could pour myself a cup of coffee, and as I did that, I looked back to Jason and let just the tiniest amount of pleading into my voice, "All I'm trying to say is that he's a good kid, and he didn't replace you – in fact, he worships you, don't be mean to him, or overly rude to him."

"Can I still be the _charming little asshole_ I was to Dick?" He grinned and I felt myself letting out a begrudging laugh.

I could still remember the day that Dick had called him that – and how I sat Dick down and gave him the tongue thrashing of a lifetime.

"As much as I don't condone you two fighting, I wouldn't expect anything less," I whispered to him with a wink.

Jason smiled slightly and then adopted a cocky posture, "Can I still hit on Barbie?"

That drew a laugh from me, a loud and genuine one, and as I took a sip of my coffee, I shrugged, "As long as you don't provoke Dick."

"Oh come on Mom," Jason snorted as he pushed off of the counter and fixed me with a teasing expression, "You can't tell me that he's dating Barbara, or that he's possessive of Barbara – if I really wanted to fight with him, I'd hit on you."

Ignoring the blush that came to my face, I turned and stared slack jawed at him – and it was only after a few seconds and Jason's growing, amused grin did I realize what he was laughing at. Feeling that hot coffee burn my tongue, I swallowed it click and took deep breaths. There was no way I'd just heard that, or maybe I was hearing things – because my mind did not just leap the conclusion that Jason was implying? But by his continued grin, I knew that it had and I simply blinked at him.

"I know that you're not the most observant of people when it comes to things like this, but you've had to see the way he stares at you when you're not looking?" He asked, elbowing my side slightly, "I remember this one time, when we got off of patrol, and you were showering, I caught Dick just outside the shower, staring at you as if you were the most interesting thing in the world. If he's not hot for you, then I evidently don't know how to spot that look, and I'm pretty damn sure I do."

But my mind had come to a complete and total stop and there was no way for me to overcome the image, the image that literally set the insides of my body on fire, "Are you saying that Dick is attracted to me?"

"More like follows you around like a little puppy, just waiting for the day that you'll let him jump up into your lap and lick you and shit like that," He snickered and shook his head, "And he's not that subtle about it."

"Oh good lord," I set my coffee down and leaned back against the counter.

Jason's snickers continued unabashed, "I haven't broken you have I?"

"No," I shook my head and wiped the sheen of sweat that had suddenly appeared on my forehead, and it was sixty eight degrees inside, "I'm just think about how this would have played out if I had formerly adopted him."

"Oedipus complexes all around," Jason shouted, with a peel of laughter.

"Right," I nodded – not really ready to confess that it was an entirely shared feeling.

Damn.

I understood that I wasn't the most observant person in pretty much all matters outside of my nightlife as Batwoman, but for god sake, how could I miss something like this? Dick had been in my home since he was nine years old and in that long time together, I had plenty of time to study him, observe him, and catalogue his behavior, as well as his likes and dislikes. I was fifteen, nearly sixteen years older than him – I mean granted, if I still put on my charm, I had the ability to make men of all ages fall on their feet for me, something that was useful with both Batwoman and Cathie Wayne, but on Dick? Being attracted to him was one thing, but the prospect of it really happening, it was bizarre. Not unpleasantly bizarre, but so bizarre that humoring the idea of it ever happening was the most surreal thing that I had ever thought about. He should be going after pretty girls that were his own age and for someone who had relative freedom in comparison to me. I did not have that at all on bad days, and the closest that I ever came was on the few good days was very little to be frank. He should be with someone who didn't have that constriction – he shouldn't have to deal with a damaged billionaire society queen-vigilante.

If he were ever to come into that part of my life, where he was with me romantically, he would find that things were so very different then when he was with me when he was my ward.

He would be degraded. _Mr. Catherine Wayne – Catherine's Boy toy. _

He would be insulted. _What is that poor, money grubbing circus trash doing here? _

And worst of all, I feared that he would be left behind in the necessity to keep as much distance between Catherine Wayne and Batwoman as possible. _That Cathie Wayne is such vacuous idiot, and her boy toy is no better._

He did not deserve to deal with any of it – he was such a bright, beautiful and nice person and to be forced into that world because of me was something that I could do.

Good lord, I'd never be able to look Dick in the eye again.

Double damn.

Gripping my coffee cup tight, a slight movement on Jason's part, out of the corner of my eye, broke my inner monologue. Turning back, I watched him rub his hand over the knife shaped hole in the cabinet, "You'd better call a repairman."

"I know," He said, dropping his hand heading towards the doorway, "Alfred will never let me live it down."

"He probably won't regardless," I commented with dry tone as the only response Jason gave as he was leaving, was a loud laugh.

And despite the surreal nature of this moment, it was good to hear that laugh again.

* * *

Driving through the gates of Wayne Manor was something that I still, even a year after becoming Robin, was not used to and it would take me quite some time before I would.

My parents were friends of Catherine, of course – both my mother and my father went to school with Catherine when they were children, and they ran in the same social circles, so I wasn't a stranger to almost disgusting opulence. However, in terms of weight in both the financial world and in Gotham society, the Wayne name all but crushed the Drake name, we, or rather I, did not have near the social standing that Catherine did, or the money. So, the long, almost endless driveway, that went through the seemingly endless grounds of Wayne Manor were a sight to be seen, because the home that I grew up, about a mile from here, had none of this, in fact, it used to be a part of grounds of Wayne Manor. Hearing Dick start to converse with Alfred for the hundredth time since we picked Barbara up from her apartment, I closed off my musings and focused back in on the conversation, right when Dick started to get anxious, "Alf – do you think you could drive a bit faster?"

The older man seemed to sniff disdainfully at the thought of speeding in this Bentley limousine, "I'm afraid not Master Dick – it would be most unsafe."

"Not to mention the fact that Catherine will take your head off if she see it," Barbara added from beside Dick, dryness lacing her voice.

Dick turned to Barbara and frowned, "Why not? She seemed so hard pressed to get Tim and I here, why would she be mad if we hurried it up a little more?"

"Master Dick," Alfred chastised rather loudly from the front of the limousine, "This surprise that Mistress Catherine has will be there, regardless of what speed we're going."

I narrowed my eyes slightly, perhaps I was still in the mindset of the mission last night, or maybe I was sinking too quickly into my alter-ego, but my mind began to put the pieces of this puzzle together. A slight movement in his cheeks, as well as the strained position of his eyebrows told me one thing: Alfred knew exactly what it was that Catherine had for us. Sitting my hands in my lap and trying to keep patient, I heard Dick gasp from beside and looked up to find him glaring with obvious accusation at the butler. Repressing a gasp of my own, I turned to look at Alfred and remember something that Catherine had told me on my first night living in Wayne Manor, and it was simply this: do not glare at Alfred, or there'd be dire consequences. With a smile, I remember what she added on afterwards and that in itself made me respect the butler infinitely, it was simply the fact that the only person alive who could probably make Batwoman herself come to heel was Alfred.

"You know what the surprise is, don't you?" Dick asked him.

Alfred's face was a mask of non-reaction, and I had no doubt that even inwardly, he was not affected by Dick's glare, "Of course I do, Master Dick – in case it has not occurred to you yet – there is very little in Wayne Manor that I don't know."

I wanted to smirk as Alfred looked up into the rear-view mirror for a moment to lock eyes with Dick, "And… if I may add on for your benefit, very little escapes my attention when it comes to the thoughts, feelings and actions of the inhabitants."

It was a not-so subtle way of telling Dick that we all knew that he a crush on Catherine – and from the expression of Dick's face, he must have been under the impression that he was a master of disguise. Forcing back laughter, I put my hand on the arm rest of the door and looked out the window as the manor house itself came into view. I mean, I wasn't all that keen on dating yet – I didn't have time to even humor the idea, but it occurred to me, one night after patrol with Dick and Catherine, that there were very few reasons why a man would stare at a woman, when they thought the woman wasn't looking of course, with the dumbest expression in existence on their face, and Dick didn't not fit the mold for any of them, short of one. It caused me to observe Dick's interactions with Catherine more closely, in daily life and out in the field – and I came to the conclusion that Dick had it bad for her – I mean really bad, so bad that I, a boy who had never even kissed a girl, could see it.

At first, it almost caused my brain to short circuit.

Catherine raised Dick, and Dick had developed feelings for her? How gross was that? She'd be mortified if she ever found out.

But then, Dick had made it clear, several times in fact, that he did not consider the woman his mother – he considered her his partner, then it clicked.

And then I understood.

However, it only succeeded in making it a fraction of an inch less-weird on the weird meter.

"Yeah Dick, I wonder what secrets Alfred's got on you?" Barbara grinned and wiggled her eyebrows, "Maybe a billionaire-cougar fetish?"

I almost lost control of my laughter then, but then Dick scowled and my need to observe silently kicked in again, "What are you talking about?"

Barbara rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Oh come on, I've known you've had a thing for Catherine since you were fifteen."

"I've known since you were thirteen, Master Dick. You're not very good at concealing it," Alfred spoke with a sage like tone.

"Even I can see it," I added in.

This time, when the blush, I'd never seen Dick blush before, appeared on his face – I couldn't help but laugh, "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed of it," Dick shot back at Barbara quickly, "I-I'm just anxious that she'll find out – and I'm kind of upset that you've all noticed, and I didn't notice that you all noticed."

I watched as Barbara smirked, "Well – luckily for you, Catherine's ability to see things like that – is limited. Because I know for a fact that she doesn't know, so you're in the clear wonder boy."

"…but I think that if you probed the situation more clearly Master Dick, you'd find that you're not alone in your feelings," Alfred tacked on and I nearly choked.

In fact, as I looked to Dick and Barbara, I realized that all of us had a similar expression on our faces, and as Dick opened his mouth to say something, I braced myself for the awkward tension, but it was Barbara who spoke first, "Are you saying…?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying Miss. Gordon," Alfred replied to the unspoken question and I nearly smiled as I saw the hint, the slightest hint, of a smirk appear at right corner of his mouth.

"She raised him, she's practically his mother!" Barbara shot back hotly.

Alfred was unaffected, "She knows, and feels guilty, but it seems that Mistress Catherine and Master Dick are quite in sync, they both consider each other partners, not a parent and a child. That distinction is reserved for Masters Tim and Jason."

Barbara looked completely unnerved and I raised an eyebrow, I'd never seen her act like this, "H-how long?"

"Since Master Dick was seventeen, I believe that was what caused her to fire him – but that is a matter of conjecture and merely my observation," Alfred replied with a deep sigh as he neared the circular gravel driveway in front of the manor.

Dick was silent the entire time, and his face was a mask of stoic contemplation.

Rolling my eyes, I prepared to unbuckle my seatbelt as we pulled into circular driveway and drove around to stop at the front.

I didn't blame him.

I was going to need so much therapy.

* * *

"What the_ fuck_!" A loud, very shocked voice rang through the manor.

"Don't use that type of language around Master Tim!" Alfred's highly annoyed tone followed Dick's shocked outburst in volume.

Rolling my eyes and setting my newspaper and my coffee down, I had not heard Alfred raise his voice to frequency in nearly a decade until Dick came along – and when Jason and Tim followed, it seemed to happening at a faster frequency. Sitting back in my chair and mentally steeling myself for the confrontation that was about to follow, I realized in that moment, as the squabbling neared the kitchen, that it was probably a miscalculation, on the grandest of scales, to have Jason answer the door. What was I supposed to do though? I had no doubt that Dick would have had the same reaction if he'd seen Jason in here. Shaking my head in annoyance as he, Dick, Alfred, Barbara, and the perplexed looking Tim came into the kitchen, I dug deep to find the patience to deal with this mess. Jason was going to goad Dick, Dick was going to accuse Jason of… well, not being Jason, and once he found that Jason was Jason, he was going to insult him and they'd fight like they usually did, and that was going to leave me, Barbara and Alfred to calm it down, and to protect Tim from any cross fire. No matter the mess though, I still counted it as a miracle, a reward for my actions perhaps, that Jason was alive, and I wouldn't regret this at all.

"Did you clone Jason?!" Dick shouted at me as he stomped to the island, "Have you finally lost your mind?!"

Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head, "Of course not – no, that's Jason Todd, _the_ Jason Todd, live and in person, and I had nothing to do with it."

"Oh come on _Dick_," I wondered if his emphasis on Dick's nickname would convince the said non-believer, there was no one on the planet that was better at insulting Dick Grayson then Jason Todd, "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"I'm glad you're alive yes," Dick replied, obvious either giving my judgment the benefit of the doubt, or humoring this absolutely perfect replica of Jason, "But 'happy' is a generous word to use around you."

Jason ignored Dick's end-barb and turned to Barbara and grinned at her, "What about you Babs? Aren't you happy to see me?"

Barbara, until that moment, had simply been staring at Jason, but when he finally spoke to her, she let out a choked little laugh, wiped the tears from her eyes and leaned up from her chair to wrap her arms around him, "I am, but I'm still curious."

"As am I," Dick said, turning his furious eyes back onto me.

'_Jesus, his eyes are blue,_' and after I inwardly shook the traitorous inner thought away, I put on a dramatic sigh.

"I don't know, all I know is that the al Ghuls turned up here last night, saying that they found Jason, alive – they took him, submerged him in a Lazarus Pit, and here he is, alive as you or me," I shot back at my former-ward.

I would not stand to be talked to like that from Dick, not about this anyway-…

"Hi! I'm Timothy Drake, and I've always wanted to meet you!" Tim's excited, and rather hyper, introduction to Jason, tore my eyes away from their lock with Dick.

The sight filled me with so much relief and joy that I almost vocalized it, because when Tim offered his hand to Jason, Jason, true to his word, leaned down slightly, took Tim's hand and shook it with vigor, offering the boy a smile.

"Well hello there Timmy, Mom's told me a lot about you," He grinned – and I watched as it morphed into a genuine smile when Tim beamed up at him.

Maybe things would work out.

But by the burning glare that Dick hadn't taken off of me since I turned my head, I knew that wasn't the case, at least with me in him.

This was not over.

Not by a longshot.

"Who threw a knife at one of my kitchen cabinets?" Alfred asked, breaking the silence that had enveloped us.

His tone was calm, but I knew the man who raised me, and I knew him well enough to know that he was absolutely livid on the inside.

Fabulous – so a half victory then.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter 3 **

What more was there for me to do?

Barbara was so enraptured by the very sight of Jason, Tim was absolutely enthralled with the boy as they spared on the training mats, Alfred simply stood off to the side, watching the scene with poorly concealed amusement and Dick, well Dick was angry with me for some reason. I didn't know what he expected me to do? Was I supposed to put Jason in isolation and give him every test known to man? Would that be the only way for him to stop looking at me like that? Everything in my being was telling me no. I knew several facts about how Jason impacted our relationship – and his relationship with Alfred to a certain extent, but mostly me. When I brought Jason into the house, both Alfred's quick acceptance, as well as mine, had felt like a betrayal to him – and he didn't need to anything about it for it to be true. The second fact was that Dick both resented Jason for taking his place, and for taking the mantle that bore his mother's name, while Jason resented Dick for several other things that were similar, and yet completely different. He resented Dick, in part, because of my actions, because of my constant comparisons to him, and he also resented Dick out the belief that he would never be able to beat the original.

The fact was that while Dick was a natural acrobat – Jason was just as capable of doing "flips and shit" and he was just as much of a fighter, if not a smidgen better than Dick.

And Dick would always be the original, the name came from Dick, the basis of the costume itself came from Dick and he formed the mold that both Jason and Tim had followed.

They had no legitimate reason to fight like this and my patience with it would come to an end if it started putting strain on the family.

Pushing back against the wall, after just standing there, next to Dick and observing the two boys, I gave him a silent indication with my eyes to the stairs that led to the lift and sent him the non-verbal order to follow me back up to the manor house itself. Barbara was too busy asking Jason questions of the time after his resurrection, Jason and Tim were locked in a battle for dominance and Alfred was watching over them, making sure that they didn't break anything. That gave both Dick, and myself the perfect opportunity to slip out of the cave and have the discussion that he really wanted to have when he first opened the door. Practically feeling the tense demeanor of my former ward beside me as he climbed the stairs, I brushed a strand of loose hair behind my ear and turned to give him a look, "I know you and Jason don't get along – but you're being exceptionally rude, he's alive, he's breathing, he's here in the manor and he's bonding with Tim, why does that upset you?"

"It upsets me because you just assumed that it was him," Dick growled quietly from beside me. "I seem to recall a period where you wouldn't trust Aahil al Ghul as far as you could throw him, I despise him and I don't trust him, why do you?"

He had a point – a very small, minute, itsy-bitsy point, but I'd never admit that to him right now.

My ex-husband was many things and had been many things in the time that I had known him, but from the moment that I left Aahil, and his father, he had been a servant of his father and nothing more. Gone was the man that I fell in love with, the man who would help me through anything, the father of my unborn child, the man that had been, at one time, everything to me. Folding my hands behind my back as I watched Dick press the button to open the cage-door to the lift, I stepped inside and came back to my thoughts. Even after everything that had happened between us, and no matter how angry, or enraged that his name sometimes made me, there was still a part of me that knew he would never be so cruel as to go this far with me. Aahil knew how far I had fallen just after Jason died, he had seen me after I lost our child – somewhere, deep inside of me, I was sure he'd never do that to me on purpose again, in fact, I'd be willing to wager my father's fortune on it.

Turning to Dick, only to find him staring at me, I raised a single eyebrow, "Do you honestly think that he would do that to me? Maybe his father would, but do you think he'd do that to me?"

Dick's mouth straightened out into a thin line, "Yes."

I let a little smile on my face, "Dick, Aahil is my ex-husband – he's the father of the only child I've ever been pregnant with – when you go through that, and go through the experience of losing a child, you will never want to deal with that again. If you don't believe me, go and find Mr. Harper – if you can find him, he went to drugs after his daughter died, did he not? He did. Aahil is many things Dick, but outside of this, I have no doubt that he would be nothing but truthful with me, I'm sure."

My alluding to poor little Lian Harper had practically sucked all of the air out of the lift, "That was really fucking low, even for you – Roy's destroyed himself."

"And I nearly destroyed myself over Jason, and I nearly destroyed myself over my first child," I replied sharply, my voice rising as we approached the manor, "I don't mean to open up old wounds Dick, but my point is that the boy downstairs is Jason Peter Todd, and in this single matter, I trust Aahil al Ghul, he would never want to take a child from me, or taunt me with a child after we lost ours. So in short: get over it, it's Jason, it's the old days again, except he's just as tall as you now."

When we arrived, the clock pulled back and I watched as Dick hurriedly pulled the cage-door back and get off quickly – as if he couldn't stand to be around me, "What? You think I'm stupid for believing Aahil without running a gauntlet of tests?"

"Yes, right now, I think you're being the stupidest person on the planet," Dick nodded, as he stormed off to the kitchen.

Bristling with anger at his words, I stomped off of the lift and hurried in his direction, "What if someone walked back into Roy Harper's life – and had Lian with them? Would Roy believe right away? Would you believe it right away?"

"Don't mention Lian, ever again!" Dick screamed at me and I had to steel myself to hide my utter shock at the volume of his voice, "You weren't there Catherine! You didn't know her!"

"And you never took the time to be here for Jason, to get to know him," I bared my teeth and marched right up to him, "You were so wrapped up in your anger and bitterness towards me that you took it out on him. You never spent time with him, got to know his likes and dislikes and you sure as hell didn't give off the feeling of wanting to get to know him! I, on the other hand, did and I know that's Jason! So call me whatever you like, I know that's my son down there with Tim, I know what!"

Dick scoffed derisively at me and I felt the indignation rise again, regardless of whether or not I scared the crap out of them, or they were respectful of my power, _no one_ spoke this way to Catherine Wayne, or Batwoman – not even Alfred. It was no secret that I was short-sighted on the personal matters and it was no secret that there were periods were my single mindedness got the better of me, but I was hardly stupid, I was hardly an idiot and I was not ignorant. I made it my business to know everything worth knowing. I knew where the activation codes for half of the world's nuclear weapons were located, I knew the secret identities of every member of the Justice League and I knew the kids that lived under this roof, completely.

"There you go again, you don't know everything!" Dick shouted at me as he turned to go to the refrigerator.

"I know everything about you Dick! I know everything about you, Jason, Tim, Barbara, Alfred, Clark and _everyone _that's worth knowing about," I was so pissed off that I stomped my foot on the ground – god, he was the only who could do this.

The only one would illicit this much emotion out of me.

"Is that so? You'd be surprised," Dick turned back around to me with a smirk on his face.

Putting my hands on my hips, I breathed deeply, "That's what leads me to believe that this goes deeper – why you hate Jason, why you hate the boy that did nothing to you?"

"You want to know why I hate Jason! Fine, I'll tell you," He opened the water bottle in his hand and took a deep drink of it, and when he was done – he slammed it down on the counter, "He took everything from me, he took my entire life."

My jaw dropped, and after at least three seconds of looking at him with a dumbfounded expression, I began to laugh in disbelief, "That's complete bullshit and you know it! If hadn't fired you, you would have quit on your own! What was the phrase that you used when I fired you, what did you call me, oh yes "suffocating" – you would have eventually quit or suffocated and you can't blame Jason for it. You could have stayed here, nothing was stopping you, but you wanted to go off on your own, be your own person, be independent of me, my shadow and my money. I needed someone to work with, and Jason was that person! Don't blame him for your stubbornness, or your idiocy! He took nothing from you, not a single damn thing!"

"Oh, and when he calls you Mom, that's cute," He sneered at me, his face red with anger, "You replaced me with me, you gave him my mother's name, my uniform-…"

"YOU DIDN'T WANT IT ANYMORE! You put Robin _and_ me down! So do all of us a favor and grow up Dick," I shook my head wearily at him, "We've been having this fight for years, since you were a kid – just accept the fact that you got your wish!"

He chuckled darkly and shook his head, "I didn't get my wish Catherine – believe me, and trust me, I grew up, I had to grow up in this house to survive."

"No, you didn't grow up! You're still a child, you want everything one day and you don't want it the next," I came up to him again and this time, I got in his face, "I give you your space, your independence and you're still angry with me! I can't pl-…!"

* * *

I could not take it anymore.

There were many emotions that Catherine could stir in me, angry, love, lust, guilt – so many things and I suppose that this moment, as well as the timing, offered the perfect storm that ultimately battered my control. She had a sort of angry grace to her when she was Batwoman and beating the hell out of criminals at night, and she had blown her fuse to this degree in the field before – but nothing compared to angry Catherine when she wasn't wearing the suit. When she lost control of her legendary patience, grew red, angry, indignant and took on the feel of the offended society matron that she was raised to be, it made her nothing less than beautiful. When I wrapped my arms around the small of her back and pulled her tight against me to deepen the kiss, I felt my anger melt away at the sound of the first soft moan that sounded from her and I couldn't help but become happy and completely smug as she put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me closer to her.

The feel of her soft skin under my fingers, the sweet smell of her perfume and the heavenly feel of this kiss were all things that dreams – or my dreams – were made of.

But like most dreams – they usually ended at some point or another and when she pulled out of my embraced and pushed me back slightly, flushed and breathing heavily, I knew that something was forever changed between us.

Snorting inwardly as I tried to regain my own breathing, it was obvious what had changed. From here, there could be no going back – if she rejected me, it would be years before we could even approach going back to the way things were and if she ultimately accepted me, then things would get messy and they'd get messy very quickly. Clearing my throat slightly and folding my arms over my chest, waiting for her to speak, I was endlessly amused by the sight of the blushing and sputtering face of Catherine Wayne. That was a sight that no one, short of Aahil al Ghul had ever gotten to see, and I don't think that she understood how much that utterly pleased me that I could finally see it, to finally be on the level of that evil bastard.

"W-what was that?" Catherine asked quietly, keeping her eyes on the floor.

I rolled my eyes, she was about to emotionally withdraw – like she did whenever something got to be too much for her, "I kissed you – I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you, and you weren't exactly rushing to push me away."

"No, no I was not," She replied, more to herself than anything, and damn, I'd do anything to get her to look at me.

"Damn it! Look at me!" I shouted at her – sure, there was heat behind it, but it wasn't meant to sound angry.

And she did just that, looked up to me with that masked contemplation in her eyes, the look always told me that she was thinking and she was thinking fast, "What do you want me to say Dick? Do you want me to fall at your feet?"

Her tone was derisive, and I wouldn't deny that it stung – hell, it fucking hurt to hear it, after what I had just done, "Yes-… no! Just do something, anything – don't shut me out!"

She laughed without any real humor and shook her head, "Dick – this is a line that we shouldn't cross, and apart from the obvious things, like the fact that I've known you since you were a small child, and I raised you – we're too different."

"I can handle it," The utter surreal nature of this conversation was not lost on me – not one bit.

In one moment, we had gone from fighting about Jason and Aahil al Ghul – to discussing the possibility of a relationship between the two of us, and the more I thought about, the more I wasn't surprised. Apart from working well together, there had never been a moment in civilian life when we were tame together. It was always different between us, she never got this angry, or worked up with anyone but me, not Alfred, not Jason, not Tim, nor anyone else, only me – it was went from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds. When she began to laugh again, I picked up the water bottle and took another drink of it – anything to keep my mouth occupied, anything to keep from telling her that she was being a paranoid and worrisome idiot.

"You don't get it do you? You just don't," Her eyes were wide with anger, but that was concealed with thin amusement, "If we go there, things are going to be different and it won't be easy, hell, they're going to be downright difficult. If there was a move to avoid, it would be this one, because you and I will get it from all sides, from the public, from these society idiots that I'm forced to deal with, from the League, from the Titans, from the people we fight – everyone would come to give us a piece of their mind. Oh, and let's just ignore the fact that everyone will attach labels to us too – they're going to start by accusing me of being a pedophile, then they're going to accuse you of being lucky gypsy money-grubbing gypsy trash, I ca-…"

I held a finger up, screwing the cap on tight, "But you weren't doing anything to me – all us – the League, the Titans, the family – they all know that nothing ever happened, and as far the public goes, who gives a flying fuck?"

"I do!" She shouted back at me, "It's not so much their opinion that bothers me, I couldn't give a damn about that, and most likely it won't change anything, but it'll bring around intense scrutiny. The government will want to make sure that Jason and Tim are safe in this house – and while they'll find that nothing like goes on around here, they might be able to connect the dots and lead it back to our nighttime operations – that's why this is a dangerous move Dick, that's exactly why it can-…"

I set the water bottle down and looked her straight in the eye, "Are you sure that's it? Or is it because you're afraid for other reasons? We both know what you have endless piles of contingency plans protecting our secret."

Catherine blanched and I knew in that moment that I had her, and I did laugh in amazement then, I had done something that rarely happened: I left her completely speechless and I figured her out.

"You are afraid," I accused her, a serious frown coming over my face, "What are you afraid of? That I'm like Aahil? You know me better than that."

There were a few sights that I thought I had left to see in his life.

I'd seen alien invasions.

I'd seen dead people come back to life.

I'd seen death, destruction and utter ruin of some places.

But I had never seen Catherine Wayne blow up, and not the kind of blow up that an enraged-Batwoman would suffer, no – this was an emotional blow up from Catherine Wayne and it was two parts morbidly fascinating, and two parts sad.

"I am afraid Dick, I'm deathly afraid of it, more terrified then you know," Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes and that just served to make the moment more surreal, I'd seen her cry only once, ten years ago, "I'm selfish, I'm possessive, I have the tendency to brood, I'm manipulative and I genuinely don't care about the toes I have to step on to get what I want, in anything that I do. Most all of, I don't trust men that I'm in relationship, ever since Aahil, I can't trust them anymore."

I knew what she couldn't – apart from all of the shit that the bastard had put her through, she couldn't afford to trust anymore in that regard. Regardless if it were to protect her alter-ego or to keep herself from being used for a political or business standpoint, Catherine Wayne had not allowed herself to be vulnerable in an arena where she couldn't control things. It was no secret that she kept her emotions and most other things that normal human beings had under an impenetrable wall that only she could open, but the depth and the size of that wall had escaped him until this very moment. Until this moment, he hadn't been able to see all of it – and now, now she'd gifted him with a view of the entire extent of her self-protection.

It filled him with sadness.

And anger.

"I am not-…" He tried in the tone that he thought would be most comforting.

"I KNOW YOU AREN'T! _THAT'S_ WHY!" She screamed back at me, and if I hadn't been struck by the magnitude of her emotional upset I was now.

I raised an eyebrow, my voice quiet, "What do you mean?"

"You're not equipped to be in that position, until now – you've been in the position of my ward, were these society people fawn over you to suck up to me, but if you walk into the ballroom, as… my _partner_, things are going to be different," She took the long way around, but the last puzzle piece fell into place. Damn, even now, even with this, she was falling on her sword to protect me and it irritated the hell out of me, "You don't deserve that, you don't deserve to be subjected to that – you're such a… such bright, brilliant person and if you get caught up in that, it would damage you and I can't live with that. I'm telling you this now, you and me like that? It's not going to happen – I won't let it happen, you're too precious to me to risk-…"

But I was already storming out of the kitchen and heading to the garage.

Goddamn it.

Catherine was a contradiction, that was wrapped in the veneer of a mystery and I couldn't take it anymore – I couldn't stand there anymore and listen to her tell me that she cared for me, like I cared for her and tell me that I wasn't worth the risk at the same time, it was too painful and too infuriating. Hearing Catherine's heels stomp across the marble floor, I quickened my pace to the garage, hoping that she'd take the hint and let me leave, let me go back to Blüdhaven and let me seethe in peace. Fine! She didn't want to take this chance? I wouldn't make her! God knows that I couldn't make her do anything that she damn well didn't want to do, and hell, there was no reason for me to stay here now, not with my little replacement.

"Where the hell are you going? I'm not done with you!" She snapped at me.

I turned and glared at her as I pushed the door open to the garage and flipped the lights on, "I'm going back to 'Haven – I'm not needed here evidently, Tim's got Jason, Alfred's got Jason, Barbara's got Jason, and you've got him."

And without sparing her another glance, I slammed my hand down on the button that would open the garage, grabbed my keys off of the hook next to it, my helmet on the table just under the rack and button and stormed off to my bike.

* * *

Watching Dick speed out of the garage and out of the manor was my shattering point.

Punching the button and closing the garage, I collapsed on the step and buried my face in my hands – that could not have gone worse.

I would never deny that I was an obtuse idiot in the arena of emotions, but I thought I had a better handle on them when it came to Dick. I thought I could let him down gently and prevent _that_ from happening, but it spiraled out of control, and now I was facing the very real possibility of Dick walking out of my life for a second time, and staying out of it forever. The thought filled me with overwhelming dread, it filled me with the stark reality that I had lost something very precious to me and I would never get it back. Dick was what grounded me, he really was – he'd always been that way, more so then Tim, Jason and Alfred had ever been. The second that I laid my eyes on the little boy who had just watched his parents fall to their deaths, I had been snapped back to the real world and forced to face my own demons and reality. It was what kept me from falling completely into the Batwoman person – it was what kept me from completely shutting the entire real world out.

It was what kept me from falling apart.

Wiping the tears furiously from my face, I growled in frustration, anger and rage.

Why couldn't he understand? Did I have to spell it out for him?!

It was too dangerous for us to be together – for him, me and all of us, and not just for Batwoman and her associates, but for Catherine Wayne and all of those she held dear.

Wiping the tears from my face again – the stillness of the garage was broken by a buzzing sound, and when I began to look around for the source of the noise, I found the sight of one of the security cameras in the far left upper corner of the room.

The camera had just zoomed in on me – and that was one of the cameras whose feed fed into the cave.

"Shit," I cursed.

They had seen that.

* * *

"I'll kill him," Jason raged from behind me, pacing the length of the training mats as I looked back at the footage from the kitchen and the garage, "I swear to god, I'll go over there and rip his golden little head off!"

Jason wasn't raging about the fact that Dick had kissed me, or for the fact that I enthusiastically kissed him back – surprisingly, he was enraged about seeing me cry, one of the seldom times that I ever let any of them see me break down like that at all. Emotionally defenseless as I was right now, I wanted to simultaneously, hug, kiss and tell him how much it made me happy that he was sticking up for me and on the other, I wanted to shake him too. None of them, Alfred, Tim, Barbara, or Jason understood why I had turned him down, and it boggled my mind. I would have thought that they would be opposed, shocked and in disbelief that Dick had done that, or that I had allowed it to happen – but they just accepted it, they accepted it like they knew it was going to happen. Leaning forward in my chair and resting my elbows on the computer console, I buried my head in my hands and thought of my next move, something that would just get Dick to talk me again.

"I understand that you don't want him in the society world and you don't want him to get hurt in the hero-work, but this is Dick, he'd do anything for you," Barbara consoled me from my right and it caused me to simply shrink in on myself again.

I knew that.

Dick would die for me if he had to do so, one of them already had, and I knew he'd do it again, all of them would, and that terrified the living shit out of me.

"Mistress Catherine, he'd go through all of it, and he'd handle the dangers," Alfred said from my right.

Sitting back up, I shook my head and leaned back in my chair, "He doesn't understand how much his life would change."

"Yes he does," Barbara replied.

"He'd never be able to be a police officer again," He loved doing that job, against my vehement objections – but he couldn't be one, not in 'Haven, and certainly not in Gotham.

"He'd give it up for you," She replied yet again, and I had to hold back a smile.

He would – my gut was telling me he would, but I didn't want him to, I didn't want him to live a depressing life.

"So," I let out a shaky laugh, "All of you are just glossing over the fact that I've known him since he was small child, and the fact that I raised him?"

Barbara's laugh told me that she wasn't glossing over those glaring facts, but it also told me that she wasn't against them either, "I'm not thrilled by it, but we all know that you did nothing to Dick when he was kid – and weird though it may be, he's got it bad for you, in fact, he's always had it bad for you, always. When I thought we were going to date, I knew that I was always going to be competing with you, even Kory felt that way. Do you know how intimidating it is to compete with you t-…"

I scoffed and shook my head, "You girls never had anything to worry from me."

"And that's where you fail to grasp how devoted Dick is to you," I could tell that Barbara was struggling to remain patient with me.

Alright.

Maybe, I had to do something, and I had to do something that was aggressive and totally out of my character.

I had to make this right, anyway that I could.

"Tim," I called over my shoulder.

"Yes?" Tim responded – his voice neither meek, nor cautious – he had said absolutely nothing since I came down to the cave.

"Would you be willing to work with Cassandra tonight?" I asked.

Tim was cautious around Batgirl – hell, everyone was cautious around Cassandra.

I was too – but I never showed it.

"Of course, will I be working with Jason too?" The boy was amazingly astute, something that Dick and Jason never were at his age and from the time he first put on the uniform, until this very moment, it never ceased to be refreshing.

Hearing the poorly concealed note of hope in his voice, my lips quirked up in amusement, and then I called out for Jason, "Jason, would you be willing to work the boards with Barbara tonight?"

The sound of my son's chuckling and his appearance at Barbara's side nearly made me laugh, "Assuming that I can't go and break Dickie's face, I'd love to work with Barbie."

"Okay, it settled then," I gave them a small smile and slapped me hands against my legs, "Call Cassie, tell her that she's gonna go out as me tonight and work with Robin, you two are handling the boards, and Alfred?"

I turned and watched the older man raise a single eyebrow, "Yes ma'am?"

"You've got the night off, I'm sure that Jason or Barbara know how to patch people up," I said pushing myself up from the chair.

"And where will you be in all of this?" Alfred asked, his voice droll, his tone conveying amusement, he wanted me to say it.

He wanted me to admit that I felt enormous guilt over what I had done to Dick.

"I'm going to be in Blüdhaven," I answered him and then I directed my gaze over all of them, "Unless there's a mass breakout at Arkham, or the world is ending… no calls."

Barbara's smile seemed to split her face, "Yes boss."


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter 4 **

Richard John Grayson was the only person, and I repeat, the only person who could possibly make me act this way, he was the only person who could illicit this kind of response from me outside of the Cathie Wayne persona. He was the only person who could put me on my toes and force me to make sure that everything was picture perfect, including my appearance. It had nothing to do with the fact that Dick was attracted to me and that the feeling was entirely mutual – nope, not at all. It didn't matter that there was this annoying fluttering sensation in my stomach whenever I so much as thought of him, and it didn't matter that I whenever I even thought of him, the voice in my head smiled, I had to lay down the law in this matter.

The biggest question that I had to ask was what Dick saw in me exactly?

Aside from my numerous and enormous faults as a human being, I was over fifteen years old then he was and I wasn't getting any younger. I mean, retaining my looks had always proved to be useful in the guise of Cathie Wayne, but I could only do that for a time before things started to go. At thirty six years old, I was an attractive woman, I turned heads – not with the frequency that I did when I was younger, but I was still able to do it – and I estimated that I'd be able to hold onto my looks for at least another ten years before I'd have to start propping them up with force. Why the hell would he want me? There were tons and tons of beautiful, attractive young girls willing to throw themselves at him, and he looked at me? I had untold amounts of scars that littered almost every part of my body – and hell, I was not near as voracious as I was when I was young, at least when it came to sex. Of all the women that Dick could get together with, he decided to want _me_, how absurdly strange. Still, I couldn't deny that it was flattering, so very flattering – Dick was… well he hit the definition of handsome to such a degree that he bordered on being pretty, and after all these years, it was nice to have that kind of attention.

Scowling at my foolishness and continuing the process of pulling my hair back into a tight bun – I had to remember my stance of this and the reasons why I was denying myself this. When I got close to people, I took enormous risks, I did it with Dick, Jason, Tim, Barbara, Cassandra and Alfred and I always ran the risk of hurting them or putting them in harm's way. However, when I got close to people in the romantic sense, I either drove them away, I withdrew from the relationship before things began to get too heavy, or I got so emotionally attached to that person that it suffocated them and it destroyed me when they left. I did not want to lose Dick, nor did I want to inflict any of that on him either – regardless if it were in a simple platonic relationship or an incredibly complicated romantic relationship. Dick was too important to me to loose, it couldn't happen, of all of the risks that I had taken and was willing to take, that was the one of the few that I would never, ever take.

Smoothing down the front of my dress and brushing off the imaginary lint that had accumulated on it – I didn't know why I was giving myself this one over. There was nothing, nothing that would make me change my mind: I had to make it up to Dick, but I wouldn't, I couldn't give into this apparently mutual attraction. I had the patience of a saint and the willpower to outlast anyone, including Richard Grayson, and if I did not want to give in, there was no way, in hell, that I would give in. He was not going to best me, he was not going to force me into doing something that I did not want to do – no matter how much the traitorous little voice in my head told me that I did want it, more than I ever wanted anything in my entire life. I let a little self-deprecating laugh as I picked up the diamond hair stick, and began the process of inserting it into my hair. The hair stick had belonged to my mother, she always told me that it brought her luck and maybe, just maybe, I'd be just as lucky.

Closing my eyes and letting out a small sigh, I opened my eyes and fixed the entirely manufactured, winning smile of the Queen of Gotham Society, that of Catherine Wayne, that of a woman who existed only in name. The smile had allowed me to effortlessly glide through the perils of society, as well as placing insurmountable amounts of protection between Cathie Wayne and Batwoman. I had to wear it in public, always, and it was tiring, so very tiring and I longed for the day that I didn't have to wear it all the time. From the time I left the gates of the manor, until the moment I walked into Dick's apartment – I'd have to keep the disgustingly convincing and yet completely disingenuous, idiotic smile on my face. There was the distinct possibility that this could end in complete and total disaster – and knowing that didn't make the smile wane, it made it forced, and it made it completely forced and it took an incredible amount of willpower to keep it with the facts in mind.

Turning on my heels, and striding out of the bathroom – I looked up at the clock over the door – four o'clock – in passing and mentally calculated the time that it would take to get to Dick's apartment if I left now.

'_One hour, maybe two and a half if traffic is bad,' _I mused as I flipped the lights off and shut the bathroom door behind me.

* * *

"I have the uplink to GCPD's dispatch network," I told Barbara as my fingers drifted over the keypad.

The time that I spent with the League of Assassins had done wonders for me in reestablishing my knowledge of technology – especially the technology that Catherine used in her exploits as Batwoman. When Barbara gave me the affirming nod that I wanted, I let out a deep sigh and leaned back into the Big Chair as I called it. Sure, it was a hell of a lot bigger when I was younger and smaller, but even now, now that I had grown taller, and grown out, it still seemed infinitely big to me. There was a time when Catherine seemed like a larger than life figure, but when I started growing up, and started getting bigger than her, I thought that the 'tallness' would apply to all other things too, but I was wrong. This chair, despite being made for Catherine, who was smaller than me now, still felt like the biggest thing in the world, like I could skink right into it and never get up. Letting out a pleased little sigh, I leaned back and took a deep breath in, so this was what it was like to be the boss.

"Do you think it'll be weird if Dick starts dating Catherine?" Tim's question broke the stillness of the cave and I couldn't help but choke in reaction to the question.

Turning to glance at Barbara, who had finally turned away from her work to give Tim and amused look, I turned in the chair and fixed him with my own grin, "Not particularly – people will think it's weird, but the family, our friends, they won't."

Tim raised an eyebrow as he fastened the boots to his costume, "It's just I haven't been here long enough to know what other people would think."

That drew a laugh from Barbara, "Tim, I think you'll find that there is no one more dedicated to Catherine Wayne, then Dick Grayson – and, at least since I've been here, he's never stopped being dedicated, even when they were fighting."

"They're the original ones Tim," I told me, folding my arms over my chest and drifting back into my memories, "I mean, don't get me wrong, Catherine has no qualms about work with us – and she works well with us, but those two…"

I shook my head in magnitude of the bonds that were between Dick Grayson and Catherine Wayne.

Tim and I may have worn the mantle of Robin after Dick, but Dick was the one who made it famous.

Dick was the one who became the leader of all of the side-kicks.

Dick was the one who put Robin in the history books.

Dick was the one who created it.

No matter how well Tim or I worked with Catherine, Dick was so in tune with her that it was almost frightening – they were the dynamic duo, they were the ones who taught villains lived in fear, and they were the ones who situated the Justice League to, if not begrudgingly, obey and respect the team of Batwoman and Robin. While Dick had nothing to do with the fact that Catherine was the only human on the planet that had the ability to bend Superman to her will, those of us who knew the situation knew that Clark never put up a fight with Catherine because of how besotted he became with Catherine and Dick. Honestly, there was nothing that Tim or I could do to hope to match that, or anyone else who happened to come along.

"I think I get it," Tim blinked, obviously puzzled and I felt my lip curl up in amusement – this kid was so strange, but so amusing too, "But-… if Dick and Catherine get married, wouldn't that make him, at least technically at least, our stepdad?"

"Considering that Catherine actually adopted me, that would make him my stepdad," I felt my lips finally give way to the chuckle, this conversation was so strange.

"But I like him better as my brother," Tim pouted and I let out another laugh despite myself.

"Well, he'll still be our big brother, he'll just be our big brother who…_ makes out with Mom_ every now and then," I finished with a slight chuckle, which faded off into lame silence.

"Jason," Barbara reproached gently.

"What," I looked back to her with an indignant look, "It's true."

"That doesn't make it appropriate," She scowled at me and then looked to the amused Tim, "Don't mind him Tim, he's an idiot."

"Love you too Barbie," I replied with a wry smile as I turned back to the panel.

* * *

"I think you've had too much," Wally replied to my rambling as he pried the bottle out of my hands and set it down on the table.

I knew that I was a mess right now and I knew that Wally was only looking out for me, but damn it, I was in my own apartment, I was not hurting anyone except myself and I was terribly upset – I deserved to be a mess for a single moment. I was under so much pressure for every second of the day that if I didn't do this once and while, I'd explode. Glaring a Wally as he sighed, help me sit back on the couch and then took a seat next to me, my mind drifted back to the cause of my current state and anger, as well as a plethora of other emotions, swelled up in me. Why wasn't I good enough? Was I worth the risks involved? Was I not good enough for her? There were so many questions, but as usual, Catherine was only giving me so many answers and none of them were the ones that I wanted to hear. I suppose I should have seen this coming, she spoiled my rotten as a kid and whenever she told me know, I got like this – I should have known that it would apply to this too.

"What I don't understand is why you like her so much?" Wally tried to get me to speak again and I turned to him and scowled.

Like was not the word to use.

Love was the word, because I loved Catherine Wayne and I had been in love with her since I was seventeen, and had a crush on her since before that. She saved me from a life that was unimaginable, she gave me a home, she gave me people who loved me, she gave me a purpose, she gave me someone to look up to and she gave me something to strive for. No matter how much of an emotionally-dead person she could be at times, and through countless fuck-ups in our relationship, we always gravitated back towards one another eventually and for that fact alone, I knew I would never get over my feelings for her. The damned woman, that damned amazing woman had me and she could have me whenever she decided she wanted me, and that, I thought, made me one of the most pathetic, yet lovesick person on the planet. Looking back to Wally, I let the damned smile that came across my face – Wally didn't understand, Roy didn't understand, no one understood.

* * *

I was _pissed_.

There was a pileup on the highway and it backed traffic up for five miles and it took about forty-five minutes to get through it.

Then I was the unfortunate experience of getting caught in the rush hour of people returning home from their jobs and I made me want to _tear_ my hair out.

After waiting to deal with the snooty parking garage attendant and making my way through the hordes of people on the street – I finally made it to Dick's apartment building and I had to press all of the buttons on the panel to get someone to buzz me into the building. When the elevator doors opened onto Dick's floor, I stomped down the hallway and I was hell bent on speaking with Dick – I did not just go through all of that to be turned away from my pissy ex-ward. When I arrived at his door, I grasped the clutch-bag in one hand and banged on the door with my other – ignoring the rudeness of the situation and summoning what patience I had left for this moment. Dick could be in any state at the moment, he could angry, he could be indifferent, he could be in any state and I had to prepare myself for the onslaught, or the cold shoulder. Banging on the door and hearing someone's voice shout out to me to wait, I noticed that it wasn't Dick's voice and I prepared myself for that too. The voice was too faint for me to detect any gender, but I knew it wasn't Dick – and that made my mind race with possibilities, and all of them proceeded to make my blood boil faster than the next one, this was not good for my mood.

When the door opened, I held my breath, and I promptly let it out in relief as the cautious and yet bright green eyes of Wally West locked onto mine – but his rude drawl brought my anger back, "Well look what the cat dragged in?"

"West," I narrowed my eyes and put my hands on my hips, "Where's Dick?"

"Dick is indisposed, thanks in no small part to you," Wally spat at me and it surprised me for a moment, I knew that the Flash had his moments of temper tantrums, but I had never seen them.

Worry began to flood me, "He hasn't gone and done something stupid has he?"

He chuckled humorlessly at me, "Besides getting so drunk that he can't stand up? Nope."

Growling at him and stepping past into the apartment – shoving him out of the way with my elbow on purpose, much to his annoyance, I looked around and scowled with distaste at the mess this place was in. I'd only ever been in this apartment a few times, the first was when we first reconciled after he quit as Robin, the second was when Jason had died and the third was to introduce him to Tim. All of those times, this place had been immaculately clean and it bore the signs of someone who could only have been raised by Alfred. Walking into the kitchen and setting my clutch down, I began to remove my coat, while still shaking my head at the state of this place, a Prince of Gotham did not live like this – Dick should be in Gotham, he should be home with me, living the life that he deserved, that befitting of royalty. I didn't care that Dick wasn't brought up that way, it was the life that I gave him and it was life that I always wanted him to have, I didn't want him to have this.

Dick might have maintained – at least in his fits of rage, when he got really angry with me – that living in his trailer, with his parents, was more of a life than the one I gave him. Wayne Manor, according to angry Dick, was a cold, empty, heartless place that no child should ever grow up in – and while it didn't have the homey feel of John and Robin Grayson's trailer, or this… apartment, I was more than tempted to call it a pigsty – it certainly had more to offer and more comfort to offer people.

Putting my coat on the back of the kitchen chair, I scowled at one of the beer bottles on the table, picked it up and turned on my feet towards the trash, "How long has Dick been drinking?"

"I would say all afternoon," Wally responded, coming to stand in the entryway of the kitchen, "He called me around three o'clock and told me he needed to talk to someone, something about a big fight with you – because that's so original."

Narrowing my eyes at his barb, I turned back to him and put my hands on my hips once again, "And how did Dick, a twenty year old, get ahold of that much liquor?"

Wally rolled his eyes and I felt my annoyance rise to yet another level, "Oh please Bats, you don't seriously think-…"

"Yes I do," I scowled at him, walking forward to stand face to face with him, the sound of my heels hitting the tiled-floor and our breathing were the only noticeable sounds in the apartment, "And let me make myself clear _West_, if you ever buy him, or anyone else in my family liquor again while they're under-aged, I will take a beer bottle, much like the one that I just put in the trash, and I will break it over your head, do you understand? Buying them booze is not something that you will do."

I had to admit, it took a brave man to smirk at me like that, to smirk at me in derision and mock my threat and it made me respect the Flash just a little bit more, "I can't understand why he loves a cold hearted bitch like you."

"_Excuse me_?" It wasn't often that I was genuinely scandalized – but no one talked to me like that, no one.

"Don't you take another step towards me, I'll knock you into the middle of next week," Wally growled – trying to be menacing.

I couldn't help it.

I laughed – it was such a high pitched laugh that I almost would consider it giggling.

It was like a little tea-cup poodle yapping at a pit bull and amid Wally's confused look and my laughter – my mind drifted back to a similar encounter with the previous Flash.

"You know, your uncle once threatened me with the same thing," I grinned, savoring the sight of his eyes widening at the mention of Barry, "I beat him so badly that he learned respect and he never spoke to me that way again."

Stepping back and looking at the product of my work, I smirked, perhaps I was in a bit of a vindictive mood today – I'd have to apologize to him later, "And West, you may be able to knock me into next week, but I'll kick your sorry ass on Thursday."

Pulling back, turning on my heels, I made for the pile of dishes in the sink – and halfway there, I turned over my shoulder, tired of the speedster's presence, especially when it wasn't required, "You're dismissed West, I'll take it from here."

And I smiled when I heard the slightest hint of Wally cursing me under his breath.

'_Amateur,_' I thought with a wry smile.

* * *

In my private moments, I would admit that I envied Dick, if only on small things.

Looking at the plethora of framed pictures on the walls and on the cabinets, as well as the mantle, it made me envious of the boy-… no, man, who had the ability to connect with anything and make friends with the most unorthodox being. Friends from school, friends from the Titans, friends from the League, so many friends, so many smiles, so many hugs – he could get along with anything. Stopping at the mantel directly under the television, I let a soft smile come over my face. One of the photos was a group photo of the circus – it was an older photo of course, because sitting in the middle of the large group were John, Robin and Dick Grayson, proudly together as the Flying Grayson acrobatic group. The photo next to it was that of Roy Harper, Wally West and Dick during the golden years of their time in the Teen Titians, all three of the boys were smiling and hugging, before all of the bullshit of the last few years, it made me genuinely happy to be reminded of those nice years.

The third of the four photos was that of the first time Alfred and I took Dick to the pier – I could still remember the day, he'd had so much fun and had gotten so wired on candy that we had trouble getting him to sleep that night.

The fourth photo was the one that made my heartbeat speed up – and it made an unwilling smile come to my face, it was a photo of Dick when he was leaving to go to his senior prom. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo, the girl he had asked to the dance – I had long since forgotten her name – had been beside herself to come to Wayne Manor. Dick, for his part, was uncomfortable to say the least, and he had complained about it for days, but in the end he put on his brave face and he'd charmed the hell out of the girl. However, it wasn't the sight of Dick in the tuxedo that made my heartbeat speed up, nor was it the trampy girl he took to the prom – no, it was the photograph of me kissing Dick on the cheek. It was only now, looking back on it that I could see the blush on Dick's face and it made me grin, hell, it made me actually giggle. How didn't I notice that the boy liked me this much? I mean I always knew he preened when I gave him attention, but this? Damn.

Turning on my heel and shaking my head – this was all new and unfamiliar territory and I did not like unfamiliar.

Settling myself on Dick's couch with a dramatic sigh, I looked at my hands and scowled – I don't think that I had ever done so much domestic work in my entire life. Sure, I'd washed dishes before and did my own laundry, and Alfred raised me to pick up after myself with ruthless efficiency – and I'd even tried to cook dinner once, but never like this, never all in one night and when I looked at the wall-clock over Dick's television, my scowl deepened. It was nearly ten o'clock at night, Cassie and Tim would have just gone out on patrol, Barbara and Jason would be handling the boards, taking in reported crimes and dispatching them to stop them. Here I was, in another city, picking up after my drunken former ward and waiting for him to wake up so that we could talk. Letting out a surprised laugh as I reached to the coffee table and picked up the television remote, I crossed my legs and settled in – I'd go back to Gotham when this matter was settled and not a moment sooner.

Flipping on the news, I gave the parts of the apartment that I could see a once-over and let out a little laugh, "What are you doing to me?"

When the news came on, I let out a little yawn, leaned forward to set the remote back on the table – kicked off my heels and laid down on the couch.

Dick would probably be pissed when he woke up and found me here – but I didn't care, I wasn't moving.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter 5 **

What was she doing here?

Scowling deeply at the sight of the peacefully sleeping Catherine, I tapped my fingers against the back of the couch and wondered what to do at this point? I could wake her up and toss her out, but by the genuinely content look on her face, I knew that it would be exceptionally cruel to do so and in an effort to stay off of her level, I knew I couldn't do it. Sighing and shaking my head as I turned back around to my bedroom – I grabbed the quilt lying on my bed and turned to go back towards the living room. Scratching the back of my neck and trying to keep my yawn down, I cursed quietly as I stumbled slightly over one of my rugs – my head was still ringing and I felt sick, so my irritated mood would probably be bound to amplify with anything. Walking around the couch and making sure not to walk on, or trip on her shoes, I laid the blanket down on her body and looked back at her – I'd rarely seen her looking so happy. When I tucked it gently around her, my eyes drifted up to the rater obnoxious looking diamond hair stick in her bun and I rolled my eyes, family heirlooms were fine, and so were trinkets that brought luck, but honestly, I didn't think that Catherine's mother was the most humble type if she owned that.

Reaching up and gently pulling the stick out, I gently tangled the bun and turned to set the stick down on the table – and as much as I didn't want to, I felt a smile come to my face, and a smug one at that. Catherine Wayne was this larger than life figure and here she was, sleeping like a baby on my couch, in my crappy little apartment, away from the palace that was Wayne Manor. Shaking my head fondly, I reached down, picked up her expensive looking shoes, and deposited them down out of the walkway between the couch and the table and then turned to head into the kitchen itself. When I noticed the immaculate state of the kitchen in general, my lips quirked up into an amused little smile – Wally wouldn't so much as pick anything up, and though it was rare, Catherine would and it filled me with an unknown emotion. When had she arrived? Did she and Wally exchange words? God, I did not want to think of the bitching that I'd have to listen to from the both of them.

Sighing for what seemed the hundredth time, I looked at the clock and I scowled yet again in contemplation – I had to be at work in two hours – and now, now I was seriously contemplating using some of my massive amounts of sick days.

Because honestly, if I wasn't sick right now – I didn't know what sick was.

When I looked back to the sleeping form of Catherine on my couch, I knew I would want, or _need _to hear her explanation as to why she was here and why she did all of this to my home. Shaking my head, I reached down to the answering machine and sent a very narrow gaze at it, it was sending out a flashing red light that signified a message and after sending once last concerned glance back towards Catherine, I pressed the button and leaned on the counter with my arms. When the sound of Jason's concerned voice began to pour of the machine, I scowled again – okay, so listing to this little brat was what I needed right now. I'd never admit it to him, but his blunt, sometimes downright _annoying_, mannerisms were terribly amusing in some moments. Falling to suppress a grin, I pressed the rewind button and restarted the message before leaning down closer to listen closely, "Eh… listen Dickhead – Mom said that she was going over to 'Haven and we all thought she'd be back and we were just wondering what the holdup was? Did she even make it? Did you guys make up? Please don't give me any details, it's enough that you both like each other that way, but the thought of you two _making up_ makes me want to vomit."

"So… eh yeah," I smiled at Jason's awkwardness, despite my jealous to him – I knew he loved Catherine like a mother and was just being protect of her, "When you get this, give me or… Alfie a call – better yet, call Alfie, he'll be up pretty soon."

That last statement made my smile grow wider, I could be reading too deeply into things – but I strongly suspected that Jason had waited up all night for her and that this call could not have been more than an hour old. I suppose that I could not be able to call him a bad kid, I mean – back in the early days I did and I meant it, but it was genuinely clear to me now that he cared about Catherine and because of that, I could overlook being called a Dickhead at every turn. When the message stopped, I picked up the phone and reached down to the stand to press the private line to the Manor's kitchen, it was nearly six o'clock in the morning and if I knew Alfred, he'd be preparing breakfast and then he'd go wake Jason and Timmy up. I held the phone up to my ear, and then straightened to lean against the counter with my left hip as I waited for someone to pick up the phone on the other end, and I guess I released a breath I didn't know I'd been holding as someone picked up.

'_Thank god, I don't have to deal with Jason this morning_,' I rubbed my right temple with my freehand – blessing the gods above that I was hearing the comforting dryness of Alfred, instead of the cutting sarcasm of Jason.

"Master Dick! It's good to hear from you!" I smiled at his pleased tone – there were only three people who had the number to the private line in the kitchen, one was Barbara, one was Clark and the last was me, "Have you heard from Mistress C-…?"

I scratched the back of my neck and looked back at Catherine, "Yeah – she's fallen asleep on my couch, I was asleep when she got in – eh… we didn't get the chance to talk, is she-… does she have anything on her schedule today?"

"No," And I felt a weight lifted off of me, that meant that we could have to talk, "Mistress Catherine informed me yesterday that she wanted her entire schedule cleared for today, in the eventuality of this happening."

* * *

The scent of coffee and breakfast hit my nostrils before I had actually opened my eyes.

When it finally dawned on me that I could actually smell breakfast, I did open them and for a moment, I was startled to find myself in very unfamiliar surroundings and after raising my head and taking a quick look around, I remembered all that had happened in the last twenty four hours and I remembered exactly where I was. Suppressing the urge to panic and get out of the apartment as fast I could, I took deep a few deep breaths and calmed my nerves – trying to settle myself down and prepare for the almost assured confrontation with Dick. With a groan of pain from my back, I sat up and braced myself against the warm cushion, trying to get my bearings, trying to reorient myself with my surroundings. When my eyes settled on my diamond hair stick on the table, they narrowed and I immediately pushed my hair back with my free hand – either West had come back or Dick had removed it for me, either way, it really didn't bode well from my nerves and general anxiety of the near future. Removing my arm from the cushion, I pushed myself up until I was sitting straight up and then with a great yawn, I pulled the blanket off of my legs and turned to look into the kitchen, at the sight of Dick standing over the stove.

"Dick," I called softly and I watched as he turned away from whatever he was cooking to give me a curious, and yet at the same time, apparently uninterested look, "I know this is a little hypocritical of me since I'm the one always begging you to use the trust fund I set up for you, you know, the one with twenty-five million _freaking_ dollars in it, but don't you have to go to work? I mean, somethings got to keep the lights on in this charming little… _hole_… and it's certainly not that trust fund."

"I took that day off," I watched as he rolled his eyes and as a small smirk appeared on his lips, "You certainly are cranky in the morning – you know, I find that odd, I drank half a liquor store last night and you're the cranky one."

"Well you know me, I'm cranky without my coffee," I said, standing up and stretching out, wincing slightly when I heard one of my vertebra make a noise, "I know you're still angry with me – but please tell me that you made me some coffee?"

Approaching the kitchen and rounding the counter to finally see everything that Dick had laid out, I let a smile bloom across my face as Dick presented a steaming cup of hot coffee, black, "I made a pot, you can have mine."

"Thank you," I replied softly, taking it from him and taking a slow, luxurious sip.

When the coffee hit my throat, and I felt all of my senses smooth out, I let out a moan, and a rather loud one for just drinking coffee.

However, I did not miss the wide-eyed expression that came to Dick's eyes as he hurried back around to finish cooking his eyes – it almost caused me to choke.

"So," Dick began amicably, his back still towards me, "When did you get in?"

Walking to the kitchen table, pulling back the chair that had my jacket on it and slowly setting down, I blinked, "Oh last night, Wally answered the door – that boy needs to learn manners."

"Oh damn, don't tell me you two had a fight?" Dick turned and aimed a sad face at me.

"He called me a cold hearted bitch," I replied – I felt a little justified by threatening him.

I saw Dick wince as he turned, and when he spoke, his voice was low, "I'm sorry about that."

"And then… I might have threatened to break a beer bottle over his head," I winced myself and then turned my head to take another sip, "I'm sorry for doing that to your friend Dick, even though he's right."

* * *

The awkward silence could be cut with a knife.

Our relationship had undergone so many changes in the past twenty four hours, and really, that was the reason that I wasn't able to look her in the eye as we sat at the table, not because of any bad feelings. Truth be told, I had a lot of go yesterday and sort of released it into the air in my drunken-haze, and now, now I had to deal with the messy aftermath. Picking up the glass of my milk and taking a drink, I managed to look over at Catherine and noticed that she was in a similar condition to me, staring down at the table with a stoic mask, every so often taking a sip of her coffee. Was this going to be the future? Just because it was all out in the open now? Was I not going to be able to look her in the eye ever again? The thought alone scared the hell out of me, because regardless if we were in a romantic relationship or not, I-I… I couldn't lose her, I needed her in my life. Setting the glass of milk down, I took a deep breath in and turned to look at her, "Catherine, look, can we-…"

"No, we can't forget about it," Catherine cut me off and I rolled my eyes, she always had the ability to know what I was thinking, "We've gone too far to do that."

I sighed and set my fork down, "It's obvious that you don't want me the way I want you, and I've spent the last ten years repressing these feelings, I can do it again."

"Dick," She set her coffee cup down and reached across the table to grab one of my hands, which shocked the hell out of me, "I don't want you to repress anything – and to be honest, I want to talk to you about this, we need to discuss it calmly."

"I-I don't know if I can do that," I know what I looked like right now.

A child.

A hopeless, whining child.

Catherine's face was stoic to all outside appearances, but there were small tells around her eyes that gave away what she was feeling: frustration.

"I need you to understand how this will affect your life," She began, her voice gentle, her tone a tad patronizing, but she always had a touch of that in her voice, "This won't be some carefree relationship, not like it was with Barbara, Kory, Donna, or any of those girls – if this happens, you will be forced to conform to what the people in my world expect of me – the means no circus, that means no more time on the police force, nothing – you will be forced to become the male version of me."

The corner of my lips quirked upwards – I knew this, "Can I at least be smarter?"

"Shut it," She snapped and I quashed my amusement, "You will essentially become a member of society, or at least a kept man – this apartment will go, your career will go, and your independence from me will be severely curbed."

Fear – fear welled up inside of me, and regardless of the fact that I knew about this, it still scared me, "They'll curb it – or you will?"

Her face twisted up into anger, "I won't damn it – I'm trying to make this point, is being my boyfriend and having sex with me really worth losing this life that you've set out to create?"

'_Oh hell yes_,' I thought with an inwardly wry smile.

"Despite the fact that I'd love to do both things, I just want to be with you," I pulled my hand back and made a seeping gesture to him, "All of this was an effort to get rid of all of these feelings, I'd get rid of it all if you'd give us a chance."

* * *

What possible response was there to that?

I was selfish person and naturally so, before becoming Batwoman, I lived the life of a socialite that got everything that she wanted at the snap of a finger. When I started to grow up, mature and wrap myself deeper into the persona of Batwoman, I turned my selfishness on other things. I was selfish with Alfred, taking things for granted and always wanting to have things remain the same as they were since I was a child, never wanting him to age and always wanting him to be there for me and clean up after me. I was selfish towards the children that I brought into my home. With Jason, I was blinded with jealousy when he found his mother and tried to make a connection to her – _Sheila Haywood, may she burn in hell _– and in retrospect, I was right to be selfish and jealous with Jason, he might not have died if I had been far more forceful with him. With Tim, I wanted to keep him in the manor, in a place where his personality, quirks, his emotional self and his magnificent brain could be appreciated properly and not be forced under the neglectful eyes of Jack and Janet Drake. With Dick, really one of the few people I'd ever opened up to completely, I was conflicted, wanting to separate myself and keep him close simultaneously.

On one hand I was the adult, in the position of power and he was child, or at the very least – the person under my authority and my attraction to him was wrong and really shouldn't have been there.

The other was the far more tempting option and the one that had been chasing me for years: I wanted to take him back to the manor, protect him – give him the life he deserved and make damn well sure that no harm ever came him.

"Would you?" I asked him with an air of weary skepticism, "Would you be willing to be shunted into the role of – for lack of a better term – _my toy_? Because I can guarantee you, that's how they're going to think of you when the stink wears off."

A small smirk came across Dick's face, "I'd love to be your toy."

I flushed and looked down to the table, "You couldn't handle the ride Dickie, only a few have been able to."

I almost allowed myself to do a double take.

'_What the fuck was that? Did I just-…?' _

"Did you just flirt with me?" Dick let out a hearty laugh and I found that I couldn't look up at him, pure embarrassment was running through me, "Y-you did! You just flirted with me."

Letting out a small laugh and taking another sip of my coffee, I finally set the coffee cup down and looked up to him, "I won't deny that I'm attracted to you – I'm very attracted to you, but I'm Barbara, I'm not Kory and I'm not Donna."

Dick blinked and he practically beamed at me, "And you'll notice that I never went out with them for that long? Has it ever occurred to you that if I wanted one of them, I'd have dated one of them?"

Alright, this wasn't going the way I was expecting it to go.

"You realize of course that you can never return to being an officer, and you can never preform at the circus again," I blinked at him, wanting to bring him back down to reality, "I-I couldn't live with myself if I took that away from you."

"And I can live without being a cop, as long as I can still be Nightwing?" Dick asked – his voice hesitant and his silent implication was clear to me – that was the one thing I couldn't take from him.

I nodded, "In the event that you're not willing to operate in Gotham, you're more than welcome to make the daily trek here to continue you're activities, but this apartment, as well as your job will have to go."

"Will Batwoman allow me to operate in Gotham?" Dick raised an eyebrow, his smirk coy.

Two could play at that, and I took a vindictive pleasure in the fact that when I returned his coy smirk with one of my own – as well as a wink – he blushed, "She could be talked into it – depending on the method, as well as duration of that talk."

"Well-…eh, Nightwing has never had any complaints about his methods, or how long he can spend persuading someone," I could physically see Dick swallow a lump in his throat and that told me that he was nervous, and very anxiously-excited.

I turned him seat, laid my arm on the table, picked up my coffee mug, took a sip and then raised an eyebrow as soon as I set it back down, "Does Nightwing go around persuading different people every night?"

That brought a smile from Dick, "Flings come and go Catherine – but I'm pretty sure that some birds mate for life, and considering that Nightwing has had it pretty bad for Batwoman for the past ten years, he's one of those birds."

A soft smile came to my face – this man had the ability to rot teeth with his sweetness, "You realize of course that if we do this – you can kiss independence, the form that you have it now, goodbye."

"Are you kidding? You have twenty two billion dollars in the bank and make more money a year then some countries, I'll be a kept man, I can have more independence with you," Dick grinned and broke off into a laugh, "It must be nice."

"What?" I asked him, a fond smile was on my face.

"Not having to worry about money," Dick finished, turning his eyes and locking them with mine.

"Honey, if you date me and if things progress beyond that, you will never have to worry about that, ever again," I told him matter-of-factly.

"And if we got married?" Dick asked, holding his head in his hands, totally forgetting the food.

"You'd be Jason and Tim's stepfather," I replied, leaning forward and grinning wickedly at his sputtering face, "And to any other orphans who find themselves in my care, or any children."

That got his attention.

Hell, it stunned me for a moment and I said those damned words.

It was entirely possible.

"I-I…" Dick looked completely and totally stunned.

Still leaning forward, I got a bit closer and smiled, "Oh honestly Dick, did you not think of that in your little fantasies of us having sex in the shower? I'm thirty six years old – there's a good fifteen years of the possibility of me still have children."

And that thought inwardly paralyzed me with fear – the one and old time that I had ever been pregnant in my life was with Aahil and that ended in disaster, heartbreak and a deep-seeded rage towards that man and his accursed father. What would that experience be like with Dick? A pregnancy and a child? I always knew my father, on some level at least, wanted a son, to continue one with the precious Wayne name, but how would we feel about this? I didn't know. My father was a kind man – I knew that he was not a racist, a classist, or a prejudiced person, but he placed a lot of stock on the Wayne name, more then he let on. How would he feel, at the potential prospect of his company, as well as his legacy, being manned by someone who did not have his name? I was clueless yet again. How would he feel if he knew that everything he worked for built would someday be controlled by the son of his daughter and a half-gypsy circus performer, whom she raised from childhood?

Not very good – he _and _mother probably, would tell me how wrong it was and how much I had disgraced the name.

But what they did not understand was that I would give Dick anything – I would give him the world if I could.

"I-I want to have children with you," His damned beaming was back and I was struck breathless.

Gathering my resolve, I took a deep breath in, "When I'm fifty, you'll be thirty four."

"Don't care," Dick replied with his most charming smile.

"When I'm sixty, you'll be forty four," I stated again, quietly and I felt myself inching closer to him across the table.

Dick was inching closer to.

And in the moment that our lips came together, time stopped – the world stopped, everything stopped, because there was only one thing that mattered to me at the moment. It was the fact that Richard John Grayson was kissing me, and it wasn't that passionate and somewhat overbearing kiss that we shared at that Manor yesterday, this was a gentle, sweet kiss. I didn't feel my legs pushing me out of my seat on my own, and I certainly didn't feel myself responding to the kiss. At this very critical moment between us, I was floating outside of my body, watching and feeling everything in a hell of an out of body experience. When we finally pulled apart for air, I found myself bracing myself on the table with my hands, and I was deeply amused to find that Dick mirrored my position, in fact, he had put his hands in his eggs. Laughing silently, I pressed my forehead against his and grinned – so what if this was wrong? It felt right – it felt like it was meant to happen, sooner _or_ later.

"This is going to sound so cheesy," Dick said, not moving from our positon, which was anything but comfortable, "But you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met in my life."

With beautiful and exotic aliens and amazons in the world and he says that to me? If I wasn't so shocked, I'd be flattered.

"…and it doesn't matter, age, lifestyle changes, it really doesn't, because I'd follow you to hell and back," He winked and I choked down some laughter, "Because I have never loved another woman, I have only loved you."

"Oh you are such an idiot," I replied, but I made a point to take the sting out of those words, "I'm a horrible person to fall in love with."

"Maybe I'm a masochist," He huskily replied before kissing me again, "Does this mean that you'll go on a date with me?"

"Honey, I'm ready to jump into bed with you," I could actually feel him shiver, and after forcing down that smile, I kissed him lightly again and then pulled back, "But I probably have a fretting butler, and two worried children at home and I have go."

Dick pulled back and dropped his fist on the table – and I actually laughed when he finally noticed that his other hand was in the eggs, "You're leaving me high and dry here – come on."

Picking up my coffee and downing the cup in one sip, I smirked at him and set it down, "Neglecting the fact that I have to go home and that I am more than willing to jump into bed with, you gotta' buy me dinner first."

Turning around and grabbing my jacket, I winked at him, "The Ocelot – seven o'clock, Saturday, wear a suit."

He laughed in excitement, "D-do you want me to pick you up at the Manor?"

"Yeah," I nodded, sending my own, however very uncharacteristic, beaming smile at him, "Go rent a Bugatti or something, that twenty-five million is looking pretty useful isn't it?"

Dick nodded wordlessly.

"See you later," I winked at him, picked up my clutch and walked out of the kitchen.

With the biggest smile on my face.

'_Fuck it,' _I thought flippantly.

I might as well give it a shot.

What could go wrong?

'_Everything,' _Once again, I choose to ignore the voice of Batwoman in my head.


End file.
